


Twin Suns

by myrlendi (thehistorygeek)



Series: Twin Suns [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Luke and Leia Switched, Childhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehistorygeek/pseuds/myrlendi
Summary: “Split up, they should be,” Yoda said, turning to look at Senator Organa, who nodded.“My wife and I will take the boy,” he decided, after a moment’s thought. The hint of a smile, small and fleeting, tugged at the corners of his lips. “We’ve always talked of adopting a baby boy. He will be loved with us.”“And what of the girl?” Obi-Wan asked, looking from the Senator to Master Yoda.Yoda was silent for a moment. “To Tatooine, to her family send her,” he said.Stories from the childhoods of Luke Organa, Prince of Alderaan, and Leia Skywalker, a farm girl from Tatooine.





	1. the rising and setting of the suns

**Author's Note:**

> this fic has been a work in progress for several months now, so i'm excited to finally be posting it. i have the next few chapters already written, so they'll be up pretty quickly, and i'm considering throwing in some scenes from the movies, just to see how they'd be different. 
> 
> you can find me over on tumblr at leiaskywalkvr.tumblr.com

Obi-Wan was tired. 

It was a tiredness that seeped into his bones, made his shoulders stoop and his limbs feel heavy — the sort of tired that wasn’t just physical. He ached from the feeling of it, and though he wanted nothing more than to lie down somewhere, he knew he would not sleep. It was difficult at that moment to think of ever sleeping again. 

Anakin was gone. He was dead, taken by the burning lava of Mustafar, and the man that he had been — the man that Obi-Wan had known and trained and _loved_ — had burned with him.  

That loss had killed Padmé. Obi-Wan had watched as the life drained from her body, and there was no denying she was gone. She had left behind two newborn children, and it was because of them that Yoda had called both Obi-Wan and Bail Organa to speak with him.

“Hidden, safe, the children must be kept,” Yoda said, sitting hunched in a chair on the _Tantive IV_ , his cane clutched in his clawed hands.

Obi-Wan looked up, his gaze flicking across the table to where Bail Organa sat, before focusing on Yoda. “We must take them somewhere where the Sith cannot sense their presence,” he said, his forehead creasing as his brows drew together. Though the twins were not even a day old, they were already in danger. It was impossible to say whether they had inherited their father’s gift, but if they had, they would not be safe together. Obi-Wan didn’t know if they would ever be safe again.

Yoda grunted in agreement, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck. “Split up, they should be,” he said, turning to look at Senator Organa, who nodded. 

“My wife and I will take the boy,” he decided, after a moment’s thought. The hint of a smile, small and fleeting, tugged at the corners of his lips. “We’ve always talked of adopting a baby boy. He will be loved with us.”

“And what of the girl?” Obi-Wan asked, looking from the senator to Master Yoda. It pained him to separate the children, but they would be safer apart. Keeping them together would only put them in more danger. 

Yoda was silent for a moment. “To Tatooine, to her family send her,” he said. 

Obi-Wan looked down at the floor, frowning. He, too, would need to go into hiding. The galaxy was no longer safe for Jedi; soon, Palpatine’s new Empire would begin searching for any survivors of Order 66, and Obi-Wan would need to be long gone by then. “I will take the child, and watch over her,” he said, his gaze lifting and meeting Yoda’s across the table. There was no knowing how safe the girl would be with Anakin’s family; he would make sure no harm came to her. 

Bail looked at Obi-Wan, and the two stood in unison.

“Until the time is right,” Yoda said, as they both bowed, “disappear, we will.”

◊◊◊

Obi-Wan stood over the crib, looking down at the two infants cradled within it. They were both asleep, their faces turned towards their sibling’s. The girl’s hand was resting on her brother’s chest, and it moved up and down with his breathing.

They had never known existence without their twin; in all their short lives, they had never been apart. Soon, they would be on two different ships headed for two different planets dozens of parsecs away, and before long, they would not even remember that they had a sibling. They would grow up apart, living lives that could not be any more different — one would be the prince of a Core World, while the other would grow up on a farm on an Outer Rim planet. They would never know of the other’s existence. 

Behind him, the door opened, and Obi-Wan turned. Bail Organa stood in the doorway, his hands clasped together behind his back. “Are you ready, Master Kenobi?” he asked. 

Obi-Wan looked back down at the crib. He wished they could let them rest for a while longer — let them be together for a few more moments — but they had already delayed the matter long enough. He nodded, and Senator Organa approached the crib. Carefully, he lifted the boy out; Luke stirred, but then comfortably settled into the arms of his new father, still asleep.

As soon as her brother’s presence was gone, Leia woke, her face scrunching as she let out a few unhappy whimpers. The whimpers grew to cries as Obi-Wan lifted her from the crib, holding her awkwardly in his arms; he hadn’t held many babies before, and was unsure of what to do. 

The senator gave him a sympathetic look, glancing to the door as a caretaker droid rolled into the room. Obi-Wan thankfully handed the young Leia off to the droid, who began attempting to soothe her. 

“Until we meet again, Master Kenobi,” Bail said, bowing his head. 

Obi-Wan nodded in return. “Senator Organa.” 

Bail lingered a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but instead he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway with the infant son of Anakin Skywalker cradled in his arms. 

◊◊◊

Though its suns were setting and night was falling, warmth still clung to Tatooine. The heat of the afternoon had yet to vanish, but Obi-Wan knew it would not be long. Slowly, he made his way across the desert to the homestead lying in the distance, Leia cradled in his arms. She was wrapped in a thin white blanket, and though she was awake, she was quiet. She was staring up at him, her eyes wide and brown and so much like her mother’s, but Obi-Wan kept his gaze focused on the small round building ahead of them. 

By the time they reached the homestead, a slight chill had begun to creep into the air. Beru Lars was standing in the doorway waiting for them, and Obi-Wan quickly descended from his eopie as she walked towards them. 

The two of them exchanged no words as he handed Leia over to her. The child hardly stirred as Beru carefully adjusted her in her arms, a wide smile quickly spreading across the young woman’s face. She looked at Obi-Wan for only the briefest of moments before turning and hurrying across the packed dirt to where her husband stood, staring out at the multi-coloured double sunset. 

Obi-Wan remained where he was for only a moment, watching the young new family, before silently returning to his eopie and slipping away into the desert. 

Across the galaxy, a ship landed in a city nestled amongst the mountains of Alderaan. Bail Organa disembarked, the white bundle of his infant son nestled in his arms. Luke was asleep, and had been for most of the journey; his face was peaceful, lit by the soft glow of the late afternoon sun. 

Bail made his way quickly through the royal palace to the balcony where his wife was seated. She looked up when he entered, an excited smile crossing her face at the sight of the baby. She held her arms out, and Bail gently placed Luke in them, sitting down beside her. They sat together, staring into the face of their new child, as night fell on two planets lightyears apart. 

◊◊◊

The baby’s crib was old, its edges worn with age and time. The mattress was lumpy and rough against the baby’s skin, but though it had only been a few weeks, she was already used to it; she could remember no other mattress, no other crib, no other home. 

This home was hot and dusty, but she felt safe within its walls. She was cared for and loved, though the sand sometimes stung her eyes and the heat pressed against her. But it was all she had ever known, and to her young mind this arid home was the entire universe. Nothing existed beyond the stone walls and the comforting presence of the two people she was beginning to relate to love, comfort, and security. 

Outside, the suns of Tatooine were beginning to rise. Warm light was filtering in through the courtyard, and the baby could feel the nighttime chill in the dry air beginning to dissipate. Someone entered the room, the now-familiar presence bringing with it a sense of ease; the baby cooed and kicked her feet against the soft mattress, bringing the person over to the crib. 

They smiled, speaking soothing words in a gentle voice, and lifted her out of the crib into their arms. They were warm and dry and held her with love, but she knew, in a way that she could not comprehend, that they were not the right person to be holding her. There was another presence, deep in the back of her mind and whose memory was fading fast, who had never held her but who had always been close. And there had been someone else, as well; someone who had always been beside her but had left, suddenly, not too long ago. 

She could not understand who these people had been, but it was the sudden remembering of them that made tears well up in her eyes and her bottom lip begin to wobble. She longed for them, but she did not know why, and though she could not truly comprehend it, she began to cry.

◊◊◊

It was snowing. The baby had never seen snow before, and so he stared with wide eyes at the flakes that fluttered past the window, his small fingers curling up towards the glass. His bassinet was placed right beside the window, and he could see the tall peaks of the surrounding mountains reaching high into the sky. 

The bassinet was soft and comfortable, the blanket on top of him silky and warm. He had just woken up, ready to cry out and call for someone to come pick him up, when he’d noticed the snow slowly floating by, white and fluffy against the light blue backdrop of the sky. He watched it in awe, his eyes following the flakes as they drifted past his window. They danced in the air, twirling in circles as they made their slow descent towards the ground.

This home with its vast rooms and cool air was all he had ever known. He could not remember any other, and to him there was no other. Nothing existed beyond its towering mountains and slender buildings. The two sets of hands that held and fed and cared for him were the only ones he knew, and to him they meant love and safety. There was another, however, somewhere deep within his mind, so faint and distant it was more like a memory of a memory. They had been nothing more than a presence, always there, a heartbeat sounding in his ears. They had never held him or cared for him, but he had longed for them once not long ago, and it was the return of that longing that finally brought tears to his eyes.

He cried out, hoping his cries would bring that presence to him, like it brought the others. Someone came into the room, lifting him from the bassinet with soft, hushing tones, and while it was not the person he had wanted, their gentle rocking and quiet words helped to soothe the pain that he did not understand.

In time, the memory of that presence would fade, and disappear entirely.


	2. dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not the most satisfied with some parts of this chapter, but i've been working on this fic for months and editing this chapter for weeks, so i'm just ready to post it. i hope you all still enjoy it :)

Leia was four the first time she saw a Tusken Raider up close.

They came suddenly in the middle of the night, their harsh, frightening cries waking Leia with a startled gasp. Only seconds later her door was sliding open, and Aunt Beru was coaxing Leia from her bed and into her arms.

“Auntie?” Though she had been sound asleep only seconds earlier, Leia was wide awake now, fear twisting and curling in her gut like an angry rock viper. She could see the fear in Aunt Beru’s face — feel it pulsing around her — and that was what frightened Leia the most.

“It’ll be alright, Leia,” Aunt Beru said, her grip on Leia tight as she carried her into the hallway. It was dark, the only light coming from a dim lantern sitting on the floor; Aunt Beru grabbed it as she walked by. “Everything will be alright.”

She took Leia to the kitchen, where a small pack sat leaning against the wall. Setting Leia down, she swung the pack onto her shoulders and grabbed a blaster that had been resting on the counter. She kept it clenched tightly in her fist, passing the lantern to Leia.

“Hold tight to this, sweetheart,” she said, taking Leia’s free hand in her own. “Come on, we have to hurry.” Leia frowned, but held the lantern tight to her chest, letting Aunt Beru lead her from the kitchen.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her feet stumbling to keep up with Aunt Beru’s pace as she was pulled along the hallway. “Where’s Uncle?”

Aunt Beru glanced back, her brows drawn together in worry. “We need to leave. We’re going to the neighbour’s, but we have to hurry. Do you understand?”

Leia nodded. She knew how dangerous the Sand People were; she had been told so all her life. “What about Uncle?” she asked again.

“He’s coming with us,” Aunt Beru replied. “Don’t worry, darling. He’s alright.”

The animalistic cry of a Tusken Raider sounded again from up above, sounding much closer than the first one had. Leia sucked in a sharp intake of breath, and Aunt Beru’s hand tightened around her own.

“What's going to happen?” Leia asked, keeping her voice quiet; she did not know where the Sand People were, and she didn’t want them to hear her. “Auntie, I’m scared."

“I know, darling. They won’t hurt you, I promise. It’ll all be okay.”

Leia wondered how Auntie knew this.

Finally, they reached the stairs. Aunt Beru tugged Leia up, up, up, and she tripped on the steps, dropping the lantern as she threw her arm out to stop herself.

“Leave it,” Auntie said as Leia reached to pick the lantern back up. “Come on, sweetheart, we need to hurry.” She helped Leia to her feet, and they were moving again.

Leia bit back the tears that stung in her eyes; she had hit her shin when she fell, and it hurt terribly, and she was very, very afraid and didn’t really understand what was going on or why they were leaving or why the Sand People were coming. But she couldn’t cry, because she needed to hurry and be quick and get up the stairs and not let go of Auntie’s hand.

They stumbled up the rest of the steps, bursting out of the entry dome into the open air. Leia nearly fell again, but then Aunt Beru went very still and Leia was able to catch herself. She looked up, and found herself staring up at a Tusken Raider, standing only a few feet away, a blaster in his hands that was pointed right at them.

She had never seen a Tusken Raider before. His face, wrapped in brown cloth with bulging metal eyes and a gaping maw for a mouth, was like the face of a monster. A scream ripped itself from her and she stumbled back, scrambling to hide herself behind Aunt Beru. Leia could see Auntie’s hands shaking as she struggled to lift and aim her blaster. The Tusken Raider let out a loud, victorious cry, and Leia knew he was about to shoot them. She squeezed her eyes shut.

There was an odd noise, like an engine coming to life, and a bright light washed over her eyelids. The Tusken let out a choked, strangled noise, and Leia opened her eyes to see a glowing blue blade sticking out from his chest. The blade was humming as if it were alive, but then in the blink of an eye it was gone again. The Tusken Raider fell forward, dead, a smoking hole burnt into his chest, revealing a man standing behind him. The man was bearded, dressed in simple, sandy-coloured robes, and he held an odd-looking tube in his hands as if it were a weapon.

Leia stared at him, her mouth open with shock. It was several moments before anyone said anything.

“I do hope you’re alright,” the man said, hooking the tube onto his belt.

“Kenobi?” Aunt Beru’s voice was shaky as she spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“I sensed that you were in danger,” the man said. He glanced, very briefly, at Leia, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I came to help, and it seems that was a wise decision.” He eyed the body sprawled out on the ground between them, frowning. “Do not worry, though — all the Sand People have been dealt with, and I do not think there are any more coming. It is quite safe now.”

Leia peered past him. In the dim light of the three moons, she could see what looked like dozens of bodies, sprawled out on the dusty ground. Her eyes widened. “You killed them?” she asked.

Kenobi’s frown deepened, his face tight, and he nodded. He looked as if he was about to say something, but he was interrupted by Uncle Owen emerging from the entry dome, a sour expression on his face.

“What are you doing here, Kenobi?” he demanded.

“I came to help,” Kenobi said, clasping his hands together in front of him, “and it seems my help was needed.”

Uncle Owen stared at him for a moment, and then at the bodies littering the ground behind him. He turned to Aunt Beru. “Take Leia back inside.”

Auntie nodded, placing her hands on Leia’s shoulders and leading her back down the stairs. Uncle Owen stayed where he was, and so did Kenobi.

“Are we safe now?” Leia asked, once they were back inside.

Aunt Beru dropped her pack and blaster on the table. “Yes, darling. We’re safe.”

"Who was that man?"

"He's no one, sweetie. It doesn't matter now." 

She put Leia back into her bed, lying down beside her under the thin, scratchy covers. She stroked Leia’s hair, singing soft, gentle lullabies, until Leia finally drifted off to sleep, just as the suns were beginning to creep over the horizon.

◊◊◊

Luke stood on the balcony between Mama and Papa, watching the parade proceeding along the street far below them. It was made up of Imperial Walkers, tanks, and stormtroopers, and Luke craned his neck to see the troopers’ guns. There usually weren’t that many stormtroopers on Alderaan, but they were there today because it was Empire Day — that’s what Papa had told him. The streets were filled with people watching the parade as the Imperial anthem was blasted out through speakers. 

A formation of starfighters flew over the city, the loud screech of their engines filling the air and momentarily overpowering the anthem. Luke watched them, his mouth open and his eyes wide with awe. 

“I wanna fly one,” he said, tugging at Papa’s arm. He had been in ships before, of course, but never any like that; he wondered what it would be like. 

Papa gave him a small smile. “Maybe one day.” 

“That is a noble aspiration, Your Highness,” said the man standing beside Mama. Luke had forgotten his name, but he looked frightening in his grey uniform, the Imperial insignia stamped on his shoulder. His face was serious and severe, and there was a feeling about him that made Luke shrink into Mama’s skirts, clutching nervously at the fabric. The man smiled, and Luke thought that maybe he didn’t smile much, because it looked so unnatural on his pale, wrinkled face. “The Imperial Navy would welcome you gladly.”

Luke only nodded, burying his face in Mama’s dress. He thought that if flying one of those fighters meant talking with people like that man, he wouldn’t want to do it after all; maybe he would just watch them fly instead. 

He spent the rest of the parade curled up against Mama’s side, and once it was done he ran off to play so that he wouldn’t have to be around the man, who wanted to stay and talk with Mama and Papa. Just being around him made Luke feel scared and uneasy. 

That night, Mama and Papa came to tuck him in, like they always did. As they were kissing him goodnight, he asked them why the man had been there. 

“The Admiral? He was here to celebrate Empire Day,” Mama said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “He’s the man in charge of those TIE fighters we saw today.”

“Oh.” Luke frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. “Is he in charge of _all_ them?”

“No, just some of them.”

“That’s good,” Luke said, nodding. “I didn’t like him.” 

Papa let out a short laugh, and Mama gave him the same glare she gave Luke when he did something rude or improper. 

“He’ll be gone by my birthday, right?” Luke asked. His fourth birthday was in less than two days, and if the admiral, or whoever he was, was still here, that would ruin it. 

“Of course,” Papa said, brushing aside some of Luke’s hair. “The Admiral is leaving tomorrow.”

Luke was relieved to hear that. He would sleep much better knowing the scary admiral would be gone soon. 

◊◊◊

Leia was a few months past her fifth birthday when she asked Aunt Beru what had happened to her parents. Auntie had taken her to visit the Darklighters earlier that day, and Biggs had been pestering her with questions about why she didn’t live with her mom and dad; Leia had realized, with some surprise, that she didn’t really know why, and so she had decided to ask Aunt Beru. 

Auntie seemed taken aback by the question, going still and pale. Leia wondered for a moment if she had said something she wasn’t supposed to. 

“What has you asking a question like that, Leia?” Auntie asked, setting down the knife she had been using to chop food for supper. 

Leia shrugged. “I was just wondering.” She tongued the gap between two of her teeth where one had fallen out, only a few days ago. “Everyone else lives with their parents, but I don’t, and… and Biggs was wondering, too.”

Aunt Beru sighed, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Oh, I see.” She knelt down, taking Leia’s hands in her own. “You should know, sweetheart, that your parents loved you very much.” Leia nodded, and Auntie continued, “And so do Uncle and I. But your mother and father… they both died when you were only a baby.”

Leia sucked in a deep breath, pressing her lips together. She had suspected that this would be the answer; if her parents were alive, why wouldn’t she be living with them? She loved Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru dearly, but they weren’t her parents. Her eyes began to fill with tears, but she held them back, sniffing. Aunt Beru wrapped her in her arms, taking her onto her lap and rubbing her back comfortingly. Leia clung to her, and the tears leaked from her closed eyes. 

She heard Uncle Owen walk into the kitchen and pause, setting something down on the counter. “What’s happened?” he asked, concern audible in his gruff voice. Aunt Beru stood, leaving Leia on the floor wiping the tears off her cheeks, and went to talk quietly with Uncle Owen. Leia couldn’t hear what she said, but after a while Uncle Owen sighed, sounding exasperated and annoyed. Still, he came over and picked her up off the ground, pressing a kiss to her damp forehead.

They all went and sat down on her bed, Aunt Beru lovingly stroking her hand through Leia’s hair. “How did they die?” Leia asked.

Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru exchanged a look, and Leia frowned. “There was a war,” Uncle Owen explained, his expression tense. “It ended right before you were born, but it… took a lot of people, your parents included.”

“Did they fight?” Leia asked, her eyes going wide. No one would ever say anything about her not having parents again if they knew they had fought in a _war_. 

“No.” Uncle Owen shook his head, quickly crushing any hope that had begun to rise in her. “Your father worked on a freighter. His death was an accident.”

“Oh.” She didn’t even try to hide the disappointment as it crossed her face. “What about my mama?”

“She died when you were born,” Aunt Beru said. “Your father had died only a few days before.”

Leia’s brows furrowed together. “How could they have loved me, then?” she asked.  

Aunt Beru wrapped her arms around Leia’s shoulders, pulling her close. “They loved you before you were born,” she said. “It was your mother who gave you your name. It’s a part of her that you will always carry with you.”

Leia frowned. She didn’t understand how her name proved that her mother had loved her, but Aunt Beru seemed to think it did, so that was enough for her.

◊◊◊

Luke was five when he visited Coruscant for the first time. Mama and Papa had to go there a lot for work, and he had seen lots of holos of the planet, with its ginormous buildings and bright lights, but nothing compared to seeing it all in real life — he had never seen so many buildings and speeders and people in his life. 

He pressed his face to the viewport of their roofed-in speeder, his breath fogging up the glass. There were lanes and lanes of traffic above and below them going every which way, and he could see no end to the city no matter which direction he looked. 

“Does it go on forever?” he asked, turning to look at Mama and Papa. 

“It does,” Mama said, nodding. “Across the whole planet. It’s all one big city.”

“Wow.” Luke hadn’t thought such a thing was possible; he couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Alderaan was just one huge city. 

They had an apartment in a large building near what Papa told him was the Imperial Senate. The apartment was huge, with soft, comfy couches and a wide-open balcony that let you see what seemed like half the planet. Luke could see the Senate, a large rounded disk in the distance sitting nestled amongst the tall, sky-piercing buildings, and, if he looked the other way, he could see another odd- but important-looking building, this one sort of rectangular, with a bunch of skinny towers sticking up from its top. 

“Papa, what’s that?” he asked, pointing in the direction of the building; it stuck out too much to not be important. 

“That’s the Imperial Palace,” Papa answered. 

Luke frowned; there were a whole lot of places and things here with the word “imperial” in them — even the official name of the planet — Imperial Centre — had “imperial” in it. “What does imperial mean?” he asked. It must be some sort of special word, if it was in so many things. 

“It means it has to do with the Empire,” Papa explained. “So the Imperial Palace is where the Emperor lives, and the Imperial Senate is the Empire’s senate.”

Luke thought about this for a moment. “Are we imperial?”

Papa was silent for a long while, so long that Luke turned to face him, wondering why he hadn’t answered. “Alderaan is a member of the Imperial Senate,” Papa said finally, “but we’re our own planet.”

Luke didn’t really understand this answer, but he supposed it made sense. After all, they weren’t called Imperial Alderaan; they were just called Alderaan. He wanted to ask more questions about it, but he could tell Papa didn’t want to answer any more, so he stopped. “What are the towers on top of the palace for?” he asked instead, focusing his attention back on the square building in the distance. 

“I don’t know, Luke,” Papa replied, sighing. He seemed tired and worn-out, as if something heavy was weighing down on him, so Luke decided to leave him alone and go find Mama instead. 

◊◊◊

Leia was six, and Mos Eisley was the biggest city she had ever seen; it was at least ten times bigger than Anchorhead, and some its buildings seemed to stretch impossibly high into the sky, much higher than any vaporator. The streets were full of people, and there were so many different species of creature that she didn’t know where to look.

Aunt Beru told Leia to hold tight to her hand, and not to let go. Even though she wanted desperately to explore and see other parts of the spaceport, Leia did as she was told; some of the people lurking around the streets made her feel uneasy, as if they were planning to do bad things. 

There were market stalls scattered across the city, but most of them were concentrated on one street which ran right through the middle of the spaceport. They sold everything from old machine parts to food to colourful trinkets, some of which Leia could tell weren’t from Tatooine; she had never seen anything like them at Anchorhead. 

But despite the fanciful wares and exciting atmosphere, Leia felt nervous, as if something bad was going to happen. She looked around the market, shifting from foot to foot. A voice in the back of her head was telling her to get out of there, and it was growing louder with each passing minute. 

“Auntie,” she said, tugging at Aunt Beru’s hand, “how long are we going to be here?”

“Not too long, sweetheart. I just have a few things to buy, and Uncle is still looking at droids.”

“Will he take long?” 

“I don’t know, Leia.” Aunt Beru brushed away the hairs that had come loose from Leia’s braid. “Not very long, I don’t think. While you’re waiting, why don’t you keep a lookout for a toy stand? Uncle did promise to buy you something.”

The prospect of a new toy distracted Leia from the niggling feeling still picking at the back of her brain. She scanned the street anxiously, thinking of what toy she would choose — maybe a fighter, one that could fly super fast and super far in real life and do lots of really cool things.

She was thinking about all the games she could play with a fighter toy when the niggling feeling suddenly increased tenfold, and all Leia knew was that she needed to duck. She dropped to the ground only seconds before a blaster shot fired over the crowd, exploding into the wall of a nearby building. The sound of screaming filled the air as people ducked and began running, trying to get away before there was another shot.

Aunt Beru scooped Leia up off the ground and headed in the same direction as everyone else; Leia could feel the fear and panic emanating off her. She herself felt like she was going to cry, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest, but she was six years old, and six-year-olds didn’t cry, so she held the tears back. Instead, she clung tightly to Aunt Beru, watching as a frightened-looking Twi’lek with a blaster ran onto the street, pursued by a Rodian and a human man, both of whom looked very angry.

The Rodian and the human both fired on the Twi’lek, and while many of their shots landed in walls or stands, one hit home in the Twi’lek’s back. He fell to the dusty ground with a thud, and Leia let out a quiet gasp.

“Don’t look,” Aunt Beru said, pressing Leia’s face into her shoulder, but Leia had already seen enough.

She lifted her head just enough so that she could watch as the Rodian and the human picked through the dead Twi’lek’s belongings, until Aunt Beru turned a corner and they were out of sight. 

◊◊◊

Luke was six, and he was helping Mama with her work and learning how to be a good prince. The work was boring, full of reports and files and other boring things, but it was all important, especially if he was going to be king one day.

“Will I have to read _all_ of these when I’m older?” he asked, eyeing the myriad of datapads spread across the desk with a frown. Some of the reports were even written on flimsi.

Mama reached over and ran a hand through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes. “Yes, I’m afraid so,” she said, “but it won’t be for a very long time.”

“What are they for?” Luke clambered onto his knees, leaning over so that he could better see Mama’s datapad. She had made several notes on the displayed document, underlining words here and there.

“They’re about Alderaan,” Mama replied, shifting so that he had a better view. “Sometimes there are problems, but these reports tell me about them so I can fix them.”

“What sort of problems?”

“Not very big ones, usually. Things like maybe changing the way we do education to make it better, or improving farming so we can get more food.” She smiled, rubbing her thumb over his cheek. “I know it sounds boring, but it’s all very important. When I was your age I thought it was boring, too.”

“Really?” Luke always complained when something was boring, but he’d never heard Mama complain about anything before, not even boring things.

“Really,” Mama nodded.

“And now?”

She leaned towards him, dropping her voice almost to a whisper, as if she didn’t want anyone to overhear her. “I still think it’s boring sometimes, but it’s mostly alright. I promise.”

Luke frowned, wondering whether she was telling the truth or not. He didn’t think Mama would lie to him, though, so he decided to believe her. Maybe adults found these things more interesting. He settled back into his chair, and was wondering if he would ever find them interesting himself when he suddenly realized that Papa was back. He’d gone away to Coruscant a few days ago, and wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow, but there was something telling Luke that he was back already. It was more of a feeling than anything else, and Luke didn’t understand where it had come from, but it was something he felt with absolute certainty.

“Papa’s back!” he cried, scrambling to his feet, a wide grin spread across his face as he grabbed excitedly for Mama’s hand.

“What? Luke, how—“ Mama’s questions were cut off by a knock at the door. A moment later, it slid open to reveal a guard.

He dropped into a quick bow. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I have been told to inform you that Viceroy Organa’s ship has just arrived back on Alderaan and should be landing momentarily.”

Mama’s eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced at Luke, who nodded happily. “He wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow,” she said.

“I am not sure why he has returned early, Your Majesty,” the guard said, shifting slightly from foot to foot.

Mama nodded and stood, taking Luke’s offered hand. “Very well, then,” she said, smoothing the front of her dress. “I suppose we should be there when he disembarks, and we can ask him ourselves.” She smiled at Luke, who began jumping up and down, not caring that it wasn’t proper princely behaviour. He’d missed Papa a lot while he was away, and he couldn’t wait to see him.

Mama dismissed the guard, and he bowed once more before exiting. They followed him out, and Mama lead Luke through the hallways to the landing pad where, along with a small contingent of guards, they watched as Papa’s ship drew closer and closer. Mama kept her hands on Luke’s shoulders as the ship landed, the red glow of its engines dissipating as they were turned off. The ramp lowered slowly, pipes hissing, and when Papa stepped onto it, the only thing that kept Luke from jumping and waving his arms was Mama’s hand.

A wide smile spread across Papa’s face, and he descended the ramp quickly, wrapping his arms around Mama as soon as he reached them. Luke ended up trapped in between them both, but Papa soon scooped him up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“How have you been, my dashing prince?” he asked.

“Good,” Luke replied, his smile stretching from ear to ear. “How have you been, Papa?”

“Oh, quite well, thank you.”

“What are you doing back so early?” Mama asked, resting her hand on Papa’s arm.

Papa placed Luke back on the ground, affectionately ruffling his light blond hair. “Things wrapped up earlier than expected,” he explained. “I decided I’d surprise you by coming home a few days early.”

Mama smiled. “It seems Luke somehow managed to guess your surprise,” she said, though her forehead crinkled slightly, as if she was still trying to puzzle it out. Luke, however, couldn’t explain it either; it had almost felt like Papa had walked into the room, but Luke had been able to tell it was him without seeing him. Mama continued, “He announced you were back only a few seconds before a guard arrived to tell me you were landing.”

Papa’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then drew together as he looked down at Luke. “That’s interesting,” he said, and Luke’s smile dropped from his face; it felt suddenly as if he was in trouble.  

“I have no idea how he figured it out,” Mama said. “ _I_ didn’t even know.”

Papa looked away from Luke, giving her a reassuring smile. “It doesn’t matter now. Why don’t we all go inside, and you can tell me about everything that I’ve missed?”

But Luke had the feeling that it did matter — Papa just didn’t want to talk about it. He waited all day for it to be brought back up again, but no one ever mentioned it, and so Luke decided it would be best not to talk about it if it happened again.

◊◊◊

Leia was seven when Aunt Beru took her into Anchorhead to look at pictures on the HoloNet. There were no HoloNet connections in their home, and Auntie had been promising to take her to use the public ones in Anchorhead for weeks now, finally breaking down after Leia had asked to go five times in one day.

Anchorhead was busy, as it usually was, and Leia held tight to Aunt Beru’s hand as she led them through the streets, past the vendors selling rugs and tasty-smelling food that made Leia’s mouth water. The HoloNet connections lined the wall of a building on one of the busier streets, with only an overhang to protect them from the hot suns. Aunt Beru sat down in one of the booths, beside a Rodian who reeked of a cantina, and pulled Leia onto her lap.

Leia watched as Aunt Beru pulled up the screens, pictures and text scrolling past as it automatically connected to the HoloNet News. The picture taking up most of the screen depicted a man in a dark uniform, with a long, gaunt face and thinning grey hair, looking more like a corpse than a living human. Leia wondered if maybe he was a corpse, but before she could read the text connected to the picture Aunt Beru left the page, pulling up a map of the galaxy instead. It took the shape of a circle, filling up most of the space in front of them, showing the different regions and the locations of the different planets. Leia scanned the map, looking for Tatooine, but there was so much text that it was difficult to tell everything apart.

“Where are we?” she asked, leaning forward so that she could closer scrutinize the map.

Aunt Beru pointed to an area in the lower right corner of the map. “Right here,” she said, pressing a button and zooming in until the word ‘Tatooine’ appeared above one of the planets. Another planet, Geonosis, was very close by, so much so that when Auntie zoomed back out the text of their names melded together, becoming illegible.

“See this area here?” Aunt Beru asked, pointing to the dark, misshapen area that lay on the outskirts of the galaxy. “That’s the Outer Rim, where we are. And here,” her finger hovered above the lighter region beside it, “this is the Mid Rim. Then there’s the Expansion Region, the Inner Rim, and the Core.” She pointed to each region as she named it, the shades getting progressively lighter until she reached the Core, coloured a brilliant white.

Leia poked at the screen, right in the centre of the white Core Worlds. “That’s where I wanna go.”

“Which planets?” Aunt Beru zoomed in, and the names of dozens of planets appeared, floating over just as many faintly glowing circles. Leia’s eyes darted from one name to the next — Velusia, Imperial Centre, Alsakan, Grizmallt, Chandrila, Broest, Alderaan. The only one she had ever heard of before was Imperial Centre, where the Emperor lived. The rest were mysteries, distant planets in a far-off region of the galaxy, where everyone was rich and they didn’t have to worry about water or Hutts or anything else.

She smiled, imagining cities with buildings taller than anything on Tatooine and oceans that stretched to the horizon. “I wanna visit them all,” she said.

◊◊◊

Luke was seven, and listening to another one of Mama’s seemingly endless speeches. They were standing in the ballroom of the main palace, a large crowd gathered in front of them. Many of them Luke recognized; they were politicians and nobility, some of the most important people on Alderaan. Cam droids hovered above the crowd, most of their lenses focused on Mama, broadcasting her speech to the rest of the planet. People would be gathered together in homes and squares, listening as their queen made her address.

Today marked ten years since Mama had become queen. Luke stood silently by her side as she spoke, her voice loud and full of pride as she talked of leading their planet. One day, Luke knew, that would be him — he would be Alderaan’s king, and he would give grand speeches and lead their planet with kindness and compassion, just like Mama did now. Until then, he would do his duty as prince, like he was always told to. He stood up a bit straighter, his arms pressed to his sides as he made himself pay attention to what Mama was saying.

He would be a good prince and, when the time came, a good king. Even though it was boring sometimes, with speeches and ceremonies and lessons on etiquette and diplomacy, he would make sure he did well. He would make Mama and Papa happy.

When Mama finished her speech, the crowd clapped, and Luke did too. She turned to look at him, a wide smile on her face, and bent to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Good job, Mama,” he whispered, kissing her cheek in return.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She straightened, taking his hand and waving to the crowd and the cam droids. Luke did the same, as Papa wrapped his arm around Mama’s shoulders and kissed her cheek. The crowd parted as they stepped off the dais at the front of the ballroom, applauding loudly for their queen.

The dancefloor cleared quickly as the music started up, and Mama and Papa were the first to dance. Others quickly joined in, and Luke was swept onto the floor by one of his aunts, who lifted him up into the air and spun him around, smiling as he giggled wildly.

“How serious you looked standing up there with your parents,” she said, setting him on the ground and taking each of his hands in her own. She pulled him along to the music, leading the dance as he followed, trying to remember the steps from one of his many lessons.

“That’s how a prince is supposed to look,” he replied. “You can’t be goofy.”

“Ah, yes, I suppose that’s true.” His aunt was smirking at him, and Luke frowned, wondering if she was teasing him. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper as she said, “But it’s alright to be goofy sometimes, when your mama and tutors aren’t looking. No one likes a prince who is too serious.”

Luke looked at her for a moment before grinning. “There you go,” she said, pressing a finger into his cheek. “There’s that cheeky smile. You’ve charmed half of Alderaan with that smirk of yours. That, and those bright blue eyes. You’re only seven but I’m sure you already have dozens of marriage proposals lined up.”

“Stop it,” Luke muttered, swatting her hand away as a blush crept up his face. He was used to attention, but he really didn’t want to hear about marriage — he never, ever wanted to get married. He told his aunt so right then, and she laughed, patting his cheek affectionately.

“How about we talk about this again in about fifteen years,” she said, “and we’ll see how your feelings change.”

Luke wrinkled his nose up in disgust, but then his aunt was swinging him up into her arms again, and his disgust melted away into a fit of laughter.

◊◊◊

When Leia was eight, a drought hit Tatooine. It was the worst drought in decades, sucking every bit of moisture from the air and scorching the earth until it cracked. In less than a month, the vaporators were producing barely enough water to sustain them — every last drop of it was saved for drinking and cooking. Leia was forbidden from taking baths, and Aunt Beru filled a small bucket with water and placed it near the sink — that was all the water they could use for washing up. 

A bunch of cheap, non-perishable foods were bought, all of which looked extremely unappetizing. Leia watched Aunt Beru put it away in the kitchen, her nose wrinkled in disgust. She decided then that she would never eat any of it, no matter how hungry she was — especially not the dehydrated hubba gourd. 

After two months, she helped Aunt Beru to pick what they could from their small hydroponics garden. They kept the garden going for almost a week after that, until the vaporators suddenly started producing even less, and then there wasn’t enough water to spare. 

Meals became smaller and smaller, and Leia wasn’t allowed seconds any more. There hadn’t been any meat in weeks, and even though Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen tried not to let their worry show around her, Leia knew that their supply from the garden was dwindling fast, faster than they had thought it would.

After three months, hunger became normal. It wasn’t a starving, soul-crushing hunger, but a hunger created from not eating enough for a long period of time. Leia hadn’t felt full in weeks, and she wasn’t allowed snacks any more — just the three meagre meals carefully prepared by Aunt Beru with what food they had left. When the dehydrated hubba gourd was finally set down in front of her, Leia tried to protest, refusing to eat it, but then Uncle Owen slammed his hands on the table and yelled at her, louder than she could ever remember. Leia cried, the tears creating tracks on her dirt-caked face, until Uncle Owen apologized. She ended up eating the dehydrated hubba gourd, even though it was the most disgusting thing she’d ever put in her mouth. 

There seemed to be no end to the drought in sight. Things only got worse when they heard that Jabba the Hutt had begun collecting a water tax from the moisture farms. Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen thought she didn’t know, but Leia had heard them talking about it, late one night when she should have been asleep. If they had to give up any of their water to Jabba the Hutt, it would devastate them. There hadn’t been enough water to sell since the drought started, and so they had almost no money; all of it had been spent on food whose price had just kept growing, until they couldn’t even afford a head of lettuce. They were running out of food, and the vaporators were producing less and less each day. Leia crept back into her bed when Aunt Beru started crying, covering her head with her pillow so she wouldn’t have to hear it. 

It was coming up on four months now, and nothing had gotten any better. Leia was sitting on the edge of the courtyard pit, her feet dangling down over the side. The plants that had made it her favourite part of the house were brown and wilted, dying of thirst and burned by the unforgiving suns. Usually Aunt Beru would yell at her to get away from the edge before she fell, but right now Aunt Beru was too busy arguing with Uncle Owen to care about what Leia was doing. 

She could hear them yelling, though their shouts were muffled and she couldn’t tell what they were saying. It was likely the same things they had been hurling at each other for weeks. Leia couldn’t understand why they had to fight like this when the situation was already bad enough, but when she tried to stop them it only made things worse. She sighed, swinging her legs as she watched the suns setting, painting the cracked, parched landscape of the salt flat in brilliant shades of orange and red. This had always been her favourite part of the day, the setting of Tatooine’s twin suns. 

As she watched the suns’ slow descents, she was overcome by the feeling that someone was behind her, watching her. She twisted her body around, fully expecting someone to be standing right there behind her, but instead there was nothing. She climbed to her feet, staring at the empty spot that she had been so sure was occupied, until she noticed a figure in the distance, way out on the salt flat. From what she could tell they were facing towards her, a large cloak wrapped around their body and a hood pulled up over their head. 

She had seen this person a few times before; he had said his name was Ben Kenobi. He had seemed kind enough, though she didn’t think Uncle Owen liked him. She remembered how he had saved him from the Sand People, back when she was only little.

“Hello!” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth so that he could hear her. When he didn’t respond, she began waving her arm in the air, hoping to catch his attention. After a moment, he turned and started walking away. Leia considered chasing after him, if only to ask what he was doing watching her, but then Uncle Owen appeared from the entrance dome, snapping at her to get inside. She did as he said, ducking past him and down the stairs.

Jabba’s thugs never came to collect the water tax from them, and the drought finally broke a month later.

◊◊◊

Luke was eight when he walked in on one of Papa’s meetings.  

It was the middle of the night, and the entire palace was steeped in silence. Luke was sitting up in his bed, unable to fall asleep. Usually, when he couldn’t sleep, Mama would come and lie in his bed with him, singing lullabies until he fell asleep, but right now Mama was away on the other side of Alderaan, and it was only Papa here.  

Throwing back the covers, Luke slipped out of bed. The floor was cold against his bare feet, chilling his toes, and he skittered across the dark room to the door, stepping out into the hallway. The lights set into the tall, sloping ceiling were dim, creating eerie shadows that seemed to creep in the darkened corners. Luke knew there was nothing there, but he still ran most of the way to Mama and Papa’s room, not even bothering to knock before scampering through the door.

To his surprise, however, the room was empty. The lamp on the bedside table was the only source of light, and the bed was still neatly made, unslept in. He wondered if maybe Papa was in one of the other rooms; there were several connected to Mama and Papa’s bedroom, including Papa’s office. 

Slowly, he made his way through the rooms, turning on lights as he went so that it wouldn’t be so dark. He found Papa’s protocol droid in the dressing room, turned off and standing in one of the far corners. It nearly made him scream from fright when he saw it, not realizing at first that it was only a droid, and a deactivated one at that. Still, he moved quickly through that room into the parlour, making sure to close the door behind him. 

Papa’s office was the next room, and even though the door was closed Luke could see as he crossed the parlour that the light was on, meaning that Papa must be inside. He reached up to the control pad, and it wasn’t until he had already pressed the button to open the door that he heard the voices coming from behind it.  

The door slid open, and Luke paused. Sure enough, Papa was inside, seated on one of the couches that occupied the middle of the room. Sitting across from him, however, was a guest. Luke had always been told not to disturb either of his parents if they had guests, but he had never heard of a guest this late at night — certainly not the type that Papa would meet in his office. 

Luke took a step back from the doorway, looking from Papa to the guest. She was a Togruta, and while Luke had met several Togruta before, she was not one that he recognized. She was sitting facing the door, and she looked up when it opened, smiling at him.

“Hello,” she greeted. Luke was unsure of what to do, and so he just stared at her, which he knew was very rude.

Papa twisted in his seat so that he was facing the door, and his eyebrows drew together when he saw Luke. He stood, coming over and kneeling in front of him. “Luke, what are you doing up?” he asked.

“I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know you had a guest.” His hands twisted in the front of his pyjama shirt; he hoped that Papa wasn’t angry. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Papa put one hand on Luke’s shoulder, glancing, just briefly, at his guest. She was watching them, her kind smile still tugging at her lips, but a look of confusion was creeping into her features. Luke looked at her, and when their eyes met, her smile began to slip. He looked away quickly.

“Who is she?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet. Mama always said it was rude to talk about someone when they were in the same room as you.

“A friend.” Papa stood, his hand still resting on Luke’s shoulder. “It’s alright. Go back to bed, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Luke frowned. “But Papa—“

“Luke.” Papa gave him a warning look, and so Luke didn’t say anything more. He did as he was told, slinking back into the parlour, and Papa shut the door behind him. Luke lingered for just a moment, listening through the door as Papa apologized. He wanted to stay and hear more — maybe figure out who the Togruta was — but he knew that if Papa caught him, he would actually be in trouble, and so he turned and made his way back to his bedroom instead.

He crawled into bed, pulling the covers to his chin and staring up at the patterns of light that danced across his ceiling. He was finally beginning to drift off when Papa slipped into his room, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. Luke looked at him sleepily, letting out a quiet yawn.

“Was she a rebel?” he asked, his voice a whisper.

Papa’s eyebrows raised. “What?”

“The Togruta,” Luke clarified. “Was she a rebel?”

Luke knew about Papa’s involvement with the rebellion against the Empire, and he knew that Papa was a very important person within it. Neither Mama nor Papa had ever hidden that fact from him. He knew it was a big secret, and an important one — it would be very dangerous for them if the Empire ever found out about it. That was the only reason Luke could come up with to explain having a meeting in the middle of the night: It was a meeting no one was supposed to find out about.

Papa let out a short breath. “Yes, she was a rebel.” He leaned in closer to Luke, smirking. “And that’s all you need to know. It’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“I won’t tell anyone about her,” Luke promised.

Papa’s smirk grew into a smile, and he pressed a kiss to Luke’s forehead. “I know you won’t,” he said.

◊◊◊

Leia was nine, and she knew nothing about her mother.

She knew that she had died giving birth to Leia, and that her name had been Padmé (Leia had whispered that name to herself over and over again until it had been ingrained in her mind). She even remembered her a little bit — it was more in images and feelings than actual memories, but Leia still clung to them, desperate to hold on to the only thing she had of her mother.

She had been beautiful — though Leia could not remember her mother’s face, this was something she knew with absolute certainty — and she had been kind; caring, but very, very sad. Leia did not know what had made her mother so sad, but she felt it as keenly as if it were her own sorrow.

Outside of this, her mother was a mystery. To Leia, she had become almost mythical; she would often lie awake at night imagining her, trying to come up with answers to the flurry of questions that surrounded the woman who had given birth to her.

In Leia’s mind, she was an offworlder, born on one of the rich Core Worlds like Coruscant or Alderaan or Kuat, with cities and forests and oceans, and no deserts anywhere. She liked to come up with scenarios for how her parents could have met; her favourite was the one where her father had rescued her mother, from pirates or gangsters or slavers. They’d fallen in love immediately and run off together, because maybe her mother’s family had disapproved of her being with a freighter pilot, but she’d married him anyway.

In Leia’s daydreams, neither of them were actually dead, and they always came to Tatooine eventually to get her and Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen, and take them all away, because Leia would feel guilty if they left Auntie and Uncle behind, and she would miss them too much.

She knew this would never happen, of course. They were dead, and once you were dead that was it. Still, that did not keep her from imagining. She wanted to know more about them, especially her mother. Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen were able to tell her some things about her father; even though he and Uncle Owen hadn’t known each other very well, they had still been brothers, even if it was only through their parents’ marriage. But Leia didn’t know if Auntie or Uncle had ever even met her mother. Every time she asked about either of her parents, Uncle became cranky and would simply tell her, “They’re gone, Leia. It’s not important.” She always hated when he said that, because to her it was important.

She decided she would try asking again, one night at dinner. She wasn’t sure what had made her think of her mother, but she wanted to see if she could finally get an answer about her. Uncle Owen seemed to be in a good enough mood, so she figured now would be one of the better times to try.

Setting her spoon down, she sat up straighter in her seat, hoping she would appear serious and more grown-up. “Did you ever meet my mother?” she asked, looking at both Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. They were both silent for a moment, before Uncle Owen awkwardly cleared his throat, shooting Auntie a glance before focusing his gaze on Leia.

“What has you asking about your mother all of a sudden?”

Leia shrugged. “I just want to know. I don’t know anything about her, but I want to, and you’ve never told me anything.” Before Uncle Owen could say anything, she added, “And I know she’s dead, Uncle, but it still matters. I still wanna know.”

She expected Uncle Owen to scold her for being sassy, but Aunt Beru reached out and placed a hand on his arm, quieting him. She looked to Leia. “What do you want to know, sweetheart?”

“Did you know her?” Leia asked, leaning forward in her seat, excited at the prospect of finally getting answers.

Aunt Beru shook her head. “Not really, no,” she said. “We only met her once, when you father brought her home, around when Grandma Shmi died.”

“Were they married then?”

“No. I’m not sure if they were ever married.” She looked to Uncle Owen, as if asking for clarification.

“They couldn’t have been,” he said, and the expression on his face was distant; Leia wondered what exactly he was thinking about.

“Why not?” she asked, thinking that maybe her mother’s family really had disapproved of the relationship.

Both Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen paused, their expressions panicked for just a brief moment. Leia frowned, her forehead crinkling as she looked from one to the other.

“It’s not important,” Uncle Owen said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “What else do you want to know?”

Leia could tell that he was trying to move past the subject, but even though she wanted to know she didn’t want to make him cranky, so she let it be. “Where was she from?” she asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Aunt Beru replied. “I don’t think she ever said, though it certainly wasn’t here. My guess is one of the Core Worlds — she had the most beautiful clothing.”

A smile stretched across Leia’s face. Maybe her mother had been rich, then! She tried to imagine what her mother’s homeworld was like. If she ever found out what it was, she decided, she would visit it right away and see its lakes and forests and mountains, because there was no way any Core World would ever be like Tatooine. All her friends were going to be so jealous when she told them her mother was from a Core World; even Biggs Darklighter wouldn’t be able to say anything bad about it.

“Do you know what her name was?” Leia asked. “Her full name?”

“No, unfortunately not,” Aunt Beru said, reaching across the table and placing her hand on top of Leia’s. “I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you more, sweetheart.”

“It’s alright,” Leia told her with a smile. She was happy enough with knowing that her mother came from a Core World — or at least that she probably did. “Thank you for telling me about her.”

“Of course, Leia.” Aunt Beru’s smile was gentle and loving. It reminded Leia that, even if her mother was gone, she would always have her aunt. 

◊◊◊

When Luke was nine, his parents took him on a trip to Shili, in the Expansion Region. He had never left the Core Worlds before, and he could feel excitement and anticipation drumming through him as he sat in the ship, watching the stars racing by. He had always loved travelling through hyperspace, with nothing to see but a blurry tunnel of blue streaming past the viewports.

Papa was sitting across from him, flicking through a datapad. He had told Luke that they would be in hyperspace for a few hours at least, and so Luke had made sure to bring plenty of toys so that he wouldn’t get bored. He had picked up an A-wing fighter and was flying it in front of the viewport, making it look as if it was zooming through hyperspace, when he noticed Papa watching him, a gentle smile on his face. Luke smiled back, pulling his legs up so that he was sitting on his knees and resting his elbows on the table between them.

“What are we going to Shili for?” he asked. He thought maybe it had something to do with the Togruta woman he had seen Papa talking to, over a year ago now — he’d learned from his geography tutor that Shili was the Togruta homeworld.

“This isn’t going to be like our usual vacations,” Papa explained, setting his datapad down. “We’re going to help the people of Shili. That’s why we brought this big ship, with all these supplies.”

“Why do they need help?” Luke asked, trying not to let himself be disappointed that they weren’t going on vacation. Papa and Mama always told him that he should help people in need, and that was more important than any vacation.

“The Emperor has been taking over their towns and villages,” Papa said. “They don’t have all the food and supplies they need, so we’re bringing them some.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “Why would the Emperor do that?”

“He doesn’t like it when people don’t listen to him, and so he does things like this to make them listen.” Papa’s face was serious as he spoke, and Luke wondered if the Emperor had done this to other planets as well. He knew the Empire was bad — Papa had explained it to him before — but he had never really thought about _why_ it was bad.

“Will they ever do that to us?” Luke asked. That would be scary, to be so controlled by the Empire. 

Papa shook his head. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”  

Luke felt reassured by Papa’s answer — he was confident that he would be able to stop the Empire from taking over Alderaan. Papa could do anything.

They landed on Shili a few hours later, and Luke stood outside the ship with Mama watching as Papa and several Togruta unloaded the crates of supplies they had brought. Mama was talking with one of the Togruta, and he was thanking her for their help over and over again. Luke had never seen many Togruta in person before, but these ones looked skinnier than they should, with tired, worn faces. Up in the sky above them, he could see a Star Destroyer orbiting the planet. TIE fighters circled around it, looking like nothing but tiny black specks.

Papa and Mama got him to help hand out the supplies. They walked through the town, distributing food rations and medical supplies. Stormtroopers patrolled the streets, but they didn’t bother them, focusing their attention on the Togruta instead. Luke watched, his hand held tightly in Mama’s, as a stormtrooper shoved a Togruta woman out of his way, nearly knocking her to the ground. The others were quick to help her up, and everyone else on the street scurried to move out of the troopers’ way.

The Empire made these people afraid — for their safety, for their families, for their _lives_. It made them scared to leave their homes. Luke had never realized that while Alderaan enjoyed peace, billions of people on dozens of planets were suffering. It wasn’t right.

He wanted, desperately, to make it right.

◊◊◊

Uncle Owen taught Leia to drive the landspeeder for her tenth birthday.

She had been asking him to teach her for months, and every time he simply said he would consider it. She tried her hardest to convince him to do it, saying that it was an important skill to have and it would even help her complete her chores. She’d been helping him check and maintain the vaporators since she was six years old, so she could definitely do it by herself — she just needed to know how to drive the landspeeder so that she could reach the ones farther out.

“You think I’d let you check the vaporators by yourself?” Uncle Owen had asked. “It’s too dangerous. Some of those vaporators are way too far. Who knows what could happen to you?”

“Then teach me to use a blaster, too,” Leia had said, giving him her best innocent smile. “That’d keep me safe.”

Uncle Owen had given her an annoyed look. “Don’t get mouthy.”

“I’m not mouthy,” Leia had argued, and Aunt Beru had laughed.

She thought Uncle Owen would never agree to teach her, but while they were eating breakfast on the morning of her tenth birthday, he told her that he would be giving her her first lesson that afternoon. She jumped up from her seat in excitement, running around to the other side of the table to throw her arms around him.

“Thank you, Uncle!” she cried. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Uncle Owen pried her arms from around his neck, but he was smiling, an accomplished look on his face. “Now, this doesn’t mean you can take it out whenever, do you understand?”

Leia nodded vigorously. “Of course,” she said, pressing a kiss to Uncle Owen’s cheek. “You’re the best.”

He took her out after they were done eating. Leia clambered into the driver’s seat, while Uncle Owen sat down beside her. She’d sat in front of the wheel before, pretending to drive when Uncle Owen wasn’t looking, but now she was going to do it for real. She placed her hands on the controls, listening intently as Uncle told her how to start, stop, and control the speeder.

“Now, just take it slow at first,” he said, watching closely as she started the landspeeder. The turbine engines hummed to life, and Leia could feel the speeder vibrating beneath her hands. Slowly, she started moving it forward, glancing first at Uncle Owen and then at Aunt Beru, who was standing by the entry dome, watching them.

“Keep your eyes ahead of you,” Uncle Owen said. He pointed to one of the vaporators, a dozen or so metres ahead of them. “Head for that vaporator. Keep your speed constant, and avoid any obstacles that might hit or scrape against the bottom of the landspeeder.”

Leia nodded, focusing all her attention on the vaporator and maintaining a steady speed. Uncle kept her from going too fast, though she wanted to, and made sure she slowed down in time to stop before hitting the vaporator.

“Good, now head for the next one.” The second vaporator was further than the first, and so Leia increased her speed just the smallest amount. There were almost no obstacles in her way except for the vaporators, and she was careful to give them a wide berth.

They flitted from vaporator to vaporator for several minutes until Leia had maneuvered away from them, and then there was nothing in front of her but the wide expanse of the Great Chott salt flat.

“How fast can I go?” she asked, slowing the landspeeder to a stop and looking expectantly at Uncle Owen.

“Now, Leia, don’t get ah —” His words caught in his throat as the speeder suddenly lurched forward, and Leia was taking off across the salt flat, the warm air whipping at her hair and a cloud of dust rising up in her wake. Uncle Owen reached out, gripping tightly at her shoulder, and Leia laughed with glee as the entrance dome and the vaporators disappeared behind her. 

◊◊◊

Two days before Luke’s tenth birthday, he attended a gala on Imperial Centre. It was to celebrate the Empire’s tenth anniversary, and was the largest of the celebrations that were taking place all across the galaxy that day — the Emperor himself was going to be there. Mama and Papa had both been invited, and usually Luke would have stayed behind on Alderaan, but his attendance had been requested on both their invitations. The Emperor wished to have the entire Alderaanian royal family there to celebrate the glory and triumph of the Galactic Empire.

Papa hadn’t seemed happy about bringing him along, though Luke didn’t know why. Maybe he was worried Luke wouldn’t behave himself. Luke had heard him arguing with Mama a few hours before they left for Coruscant, and she’d pointed out that it was a request they could not deny, especially after they’d already said he would be there, so that had been the end of that.

Luke had been to galas before, but this one seemed more important than the others. He was put into his absolute best clothes, and Mama and Papa wore theirs, too. Mama told him several times before they even left that he must be on his absolute best behavior — he must always be with either her or Papa, there was to be no running off or exploring, and he couldn’t touch anything unless someone told him he could. He must be polite and respectful with all the guests, and there was to be no fidgeting or shuffling. Luke wondered how long he would have to be there before he could go back to their apartments.

Mama went over the list of rules again on their way to the gala, making sure that Luke knew them all by heart. He was rather disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to explore; Papa had told him the gala would be held in the Imperial Palace. As they approached the palace, Luke could see a crowd of people gathered in front of it. Huge Imperial flags hung from the front of the building, flapping in the breeze while TIE fighters circled overhead. There were even walkers positioned around the palace, alongside legions of stormtroopers in gleaming white armour.

Papa held his hand as they made their way inside to a ballroom even grander than the one at the main palace on Alderaan. More Imperial flags hung draped around the room, the largest of which were positioned behind an imposing black throne at the far end of the room. It seemed like hundreds of people were already there, their loud chatter filling the room up to its ceiling.

As soon as they entered, people started flocking around Mama and Papa, wanting to talk to one or both of them. Luke clung to Papa’s hand, listening to the niceties and well-wishes of senators, Imperial officials, and planetary rulers. Many of them wished him a happy birthday, and he made sure to smile and thank each one of them, even though it wasn’t his birthday yet.

More guests continued streaming into the ballroom, and it seemed like Mama and Papa knew all of them. After a while Luke got bored and so he stopped listening to the conversations; instead he watched the guests twirling around the dancefloor, or made up fake conversations between them. He noticed rather quickly that almost everyone in attendance was human — there were maybe a dozen non-humans, but no more.

Luke was about to ask Papa about it when the music stopped, and everyone grew quiet. A door near the front of the room slid open, and five guards walked in. They were dressed in bright crimson robes, their faces covered by matching helmets that left only a black slit for them to see out of; each carried a black-handled force pike. They fanned out around the throne, and as they took up their positions the Imperial Anthem began playing.

Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath. A few notes into the anthem, the door opened again, and the Emperor entered. Luke had seen enough holograms to know it was him — he was dressed from head to toe in large black robes, with a wide hood pulled over his head that obscured his face. He was accompanied by five more guards, and bringing up the rear was Darth Vader, the Emperor’s Enforcer and Right Hand. As soon as Vader entered the room, Papa reached down and placed his hand protectively on Luke’s shoulder. Luke had heard stories about Vader and his brutality, and the imposing height and discomforting mask did little to quell Luke’s fear of him.

The room was silent as the Emperor took his place in front of the throne, with Darth Vader at his side. It was not until the anthem ended that the Emperor finally spoke. To Luke’s surprise, his voice sounded strained and frail, but while it would have seemed weak on anyone else, it only served to add to the Emperor’s authority and dignity. His face remained concealed behind his heavy hood, with only his mouth visible, and Luke wondered if he was hiding something about his appearance, or if it was done simply to intimidate his subjects.

The Emperor spoke of the triumph of his Empire in bringing peace and security to the galaxy, and how every planet and system and species had become united under his rule. He told them all to be proud to live in such great times, and to be proud in the success and glory of the Empire. While he spoke, Vader remained silent by his side, but even from across the room, Luke could hear his heavy, mechanical breaths. He seemed to be surveying the room, his arms crossed over his chest, his large frame towering over even the Emperor. Papa’s grip on Luke’s shoulder tightened until it became almost painful, and when Luke looked up at him his face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.

“Papa,” Luke whispered, pulling at Papa’s fingers. “You’re holding me too tight.” Papa looked down at him with surprise, but he didn’t say anything, simply loosening his grip and pulling Luke closer to his side.

The Emperor ended his speech with a reminder that they must work together to bring an end to those who would see their Empire fall. Everyone applauded, but Luke could feel a sense of unease hanging in the air. As the Emperor settled onto his throne, the music started back up, and the celebrations resumed. The mood that permeated the ballroom now was less jovial and more careful; people spoke more quietly and laughed less often, their gazes often flicking towards the front of the room. The Emperor sat on his throne and watched, his eyes hidden behind thick black cloth, and Vader remained at his side, silent and imposing.

It was not long after that Papa decided to bring Luke back to the apartment.


	3. dusk

Leia was eleven when she got into her first fight. 

She was sitting outside of a shop in Anchorhead with Camie Marstrap, the two of them munching away at the street food they’d bought from a nearby stall. It was crunchy and salty and dripping with grease, the sort of thing Aunt Beru only let her eat every once in a while, as a special treat. But Uncle Owen had given her a few wupiupi to spend on whatever she wanted while he sorted out some transaction or another, and she’d decided to spend it on food — specifically, the sort of food she wouldn’t be allowed to have otherwise. 

“How long is your uncle going to take?” Camie asked, wiping away the grease glistening on her chin. 

“He usually takes a while,” Leia replied. “He likes to try and get the best deal, even though it annoys the vendors. He says that otherwise you’ll end up cheated out of your money.” 

“My dad calls the Jawas untrustworthy little bastards,” Camie said, and Leia let out a little burst of laughter. She’d heard Uncle call the Jawas that, as well. “He says they’ll charge you too much for junk that doesn’t work.” 

“Uncle tells me — “ Leia started, but she was caught off by a surprised cry coming from a Twi’lek girl across the street. Two human boys had surrounded her, and were tugging at her lekku, shoving her around and calling her names. The girl tried to push them off and run away, but the bigger of the two grabbed her arm and began shaking her around. As Leia watched, the girl’s eyes darted around the street, trying to find someone to help her; her gaze met Leia’s, and Leia could see that there were tears in her eyes.

Tossing her food onto the ground beside her, Leia stood. Camie reached out and grabbed her arm, but Leia snatched it away.

“Leave it alone, Leia.” Camie’s fear and worry were obvious on her face. “You’re just gonna get in trouble.”

“I can’t let them do that,” Leia argued. “Someone has to stop them.” 

Camie didn’t say anything else, but Leia knew she was anxiously watching her as she stalked across the street to where the two boys were still yanking at the Twi’lek’s lekku. “Leave her alone!” she called, crossing her arms over her chest and summoning up her meanest, angriest expression. 

The bigger one turned slowly to stare at her, his face just as vile as the rest of him. He was easily two or three years older than her, but Leia didn’t let herself waver. “Are you talking to me?” he asked.

“Yeah, I am,” Leia shot back. “I said leave her alone.”

The smaller one was looking at her now too, and she could tell that he was only about a year older than her, if that, and likely the bigger one’s younger brother, judging by the similarity in their ugly mugs. “You’re gonna defend this tailhead?” he asked. “She’s just a slave girl.” He shook the Twi’lek roughly and she whimpered, shrinking in on herself.

Anger, hot and violent, rose up within Leia. Her father had been a slave, freed when he was a child, and her grandmother had lived in slavery for most of her life. It was a history that Leia carried every day, written in her name — Skywalker, a slave’s name. She herself was freeborn, but that didn’t erase the looks of contempt she got when people learned her name — she was the daughter of a freed slave, and to them she was not much better than a slave herself.

She could have so easily been born into slavery. It could have been her in the Twi’lek’s place, struggling as someone bigger and freer threw her around.

Before she really knew what she was doing, Leia’s fist was connecting with the hard bone of the older brother’s cheek. In his surprise, his grip on the Twi’lek slipped, and the girl took off, quickly disappearing down the street.

The younger boy called out in anger as the Twi’lek girl escaped, and the expression on the older boy’s face turned murderous. “You little bitch,” he snarled, his cheek reddening where she’d hit him, and Leia could tell he was going to reach for her seconds before he did. She was able to duck out of the way just in time, so that he fumbled and ended up grasping at empty air. The look on his face changed from anger to shock and then back to anger, and Leia couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. 

“Try again, Hutt-breath,” she taunted. 

This time he lunged for her, and though she stepped out of the way he managed to grab a hold of the back of her shirt. He aimed his fist right at her face, spitting out something about how no one hits him, and as the fist came towards her Leia ducked, aiming a kick right at his shin. She wriggled free of his grip as he crumbled in pain, and she was ready to take off down the street when the younger brother tackled her to the ground. 

Almost immediately he punched her in the mouth, so quickly that she didn’t have time to move out of the way. Even though it hurt and she could taste blood, she didn’t even pause, bringing her knee up and slamming it into his stomach. She took advantage of his surprise to roll him over so that she was on top, punching him in the face and chest with both hands. She didn’t know how to properly punch and her hands were already hurting after only a few blows, but she didn’t stop until she heard Camie calling her name. 

She looked over to where her friend was standing, her hands in her hair and a terrified expression on her face. Leia was about to tell her that everything was fine when the older brother suddenly grabbed her by the front of her shirt and lifted her up onto her feet. He managed to land a few punches in her face, but she avoided most of them, able to tell they were coming before he even raised his fist. 

That only seemed to make him angrier, though, and he kept trying, his blows coming faster and faster, until Leia kicked him as hard as she possibly could right in the groin. As soon as he let go of her, wheezing in pain, she was off, with Camie not far behind her, screaming about how she couldn’t believe Leia had done that, and that it was a miracle she wasn’t dead. 

Leia kept running, turning corners and ducking down side streets at random, until she was certain the two brothers were far behind her. Then she finally stopped, slumping against a wall with her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She couldn’t believe she’d done that, and had somehow made it out in one piece; she’d been terrified the entire time, and she was still sort of terrified now, but she also felt exhilarated — like she could do it all over again, and this time she’d be even better. 

“Leia, you’re bleeding,” Camie said, leaning against the wall beside her, huffing as she tried to catch her breath. 

Leia reached up to gently touch her sore lip, her hand coming away bloody. She winced. “Uncle Owen is going to kill me.”

◊◊◊

Luke was eleven the first, and only, time he asked about his birth parents.

It was not a topic he had ever been very curious about. He had always known he was adopted — it was not a secret his parents had ever kept from him or anyone else, and Luke didn’t think they could have hidden it if they had tried. Where both his parents were dark, with tanned skin, deep brown eyes, and hair that was nearly black in colour, Luke was fair, with pale skin that freckled easily in the sunlight, blue eyes, and blond hair that only grew lighter in the summer. Any familial resemblance was entirely nonexistent, but his being adopted had never bothered him; his parents were his parents, and bloodlines did nothing to change that.

His tutor, however, had recently begun lessons on the galaxy’s various Elder Houses, including the study of their genealogy. As such, Luke had spent the past few days going over the family trees of all the most prominent Houses, some of which went back to before the formation of the Old Republic, hundreds of years ago.

The House of Organa had one such family tree, kept within the archives of the main palace. It was written on a large scroll of flimsi, longer than Luke was tall, and stretched back generations. He had seen his family tree before, of course, but only ever as far as his great-great-grandparents. This one traced his family’s history much, much further than that. He wandered up and down the length of the table where the tree had been laid out, reading the names, each one carefully recorded to be preserved for all history.

He paused at the end of the table, where the scroll ended; his own name was the most recent entry. A line connected his name to his parents’, and beside it, written in tiny letters, was a note — _adoption_.

He had seen the note before, of course — seen it every time he had studied his family tree — but standing there, staring at a millennia of family history, the weight of the word _adoption_ felt crushing. All these people, these ancestors, were not his blood. He shared their name and he was, without a doubt, a part of their family, as much as any other child of the House of Organa. But unlike his cousins, their blood didn’t run in his veins.

For the first time, the fact that he was adopted upset him. 

That night at dinner, as the servants were taking away their empty plates and bringing in dessert, Luke looked across the table to Mama and Papa. “I was studying our family tree today,” he said, shifting in his seat. “The big one, down in the archives. And… I was wondering…” He paused, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Do you know anything about my parents? My… my real parents?”

Mama and Papa both froze, glancing quickly at each other.

“Darling, what do you mean?” Mama asked, her forehead crinkling as her brows drew together. “Are you asking about your birth parents?”

Luke nodded. “Yes. Do you know anything about them?”

Papa was frowning, his mouth drawn into a tight line. Mama reached across the table to rest her hand on Luke’s arm. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but we don’t know who they were,” she said. “It was the end of the Clone Wars; everything was so chaotic… There were so many orphans. Records were lost or destroyed, if there were any records at all. You came to us with nothing but a first name.” She squeezed his arm, letting out a quiet sigh. “I wish we knew, Luke, or I wish there was some way to find out.”

“What caused you to start thinking about this?” Papa asked. He sounded distant; almost unsure. “You’ve never wondered about it before.”

“Looking at our family tree I… I realized that none of our ancestors are _my_ ancestors,” Luke answered, “not really. I started to think about who my actual ancestors might have been, and if I might have any relatives somewhere. It was just…. strange, to realize that I might have another family out there, and that I probably won’t ever know who they are.”

An expression almost like guilt crossed Papa’s face, and Luke felt a stab of panic in his chest. “It doesn’t matter to me much, though,” he said quickly, shifting forward in his seat. “You’re my parents. Nothing can change that.”

“It can matter to you, Luke,” Papa said. “Your adoption does not erase your past — your family history. I only…” He paused, looking down at the table as he struggled to find the words. “I only wish we could tell you what that history was.”

Luke nodded, settling back into his chair. He had the distinct feeling that something had been left unsaid.

◊◊◊

Leia was twelve, and she’d just gotten into a huge fight with Uncle Owen.

They’d been fighting a lot more recently, about anything and everything, it seemed. No matter what she did, he would get annoyed — whether it was because she was slacking off on her chores, or she was taking too long to do them, or she was being lippy, or disrespectful, or ungrateful. This particular fight had been started over a comment she’d made about how she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life fixing vaporators. Uncle Owen had gone off on his usual tirade, telling her she didn’t appreciate everything she had, and that he was growing tired of her attitude. She had, of course, gotten annoyed right back, and it had quickly devolved into a shouting match that had ended with Leia storming off.

Aunt Beru had gone after her, yelling for her to come back inside, but Leia had promised she wouldn’t go too far, and had kept walking. Really, she hadn’t meant to go far — even though it was the middle of the day, it was never smart to wander off into the desert by yourself. But she was so angry that she just kept walking, until sweat was rolling down her back and her breath was coming in puffs. She paused, brushing the hairs that had slipped out of her braid away from her face. She knew she should start to head back if she didn’t want to end up with heat stroke or dehydration, even though she was still angry at Uncle Owen.

When she turned to start the walk home, she realized just how far she’d gone; the salt flat seemed to stretch on for miles between her and the entry dome, a white half-sphere visible in the distance. Even worse, however, were the great clouds of dust on the horizon. She hadn’t noticed them as they had gathered behind her, but now they were racing towards home, and towards her.

She had been caught in dust storms before, but never alone, and never while so unprepared. She didn’t have anything but the clothes she wore — nothing to cover her mouth or shield her eyes, which would make it impossible to navigate through the storm. That wouldn’t be much of a problem if it was a short one; she could simply wait it out, then make her way home afterwards. But these storms could last hours, or even days, and if that was the case, waiting it out would not be an option.

Leia stood there for several moments, wringing her hands on the front of her shirt, wondering what she should do. To head home would be to head towards the storm, and it looked like it was moving fast, meaning it would probably reach her before she reached the entry dome. She knew that Tosche Station lay somewhere ahead of her, and while it was further than home, it would also take her in the direction away from the storm. Either way, however, she figured she would still end up caught, with little to do but keep moving and hope the storm didn’t last long. In that case, then, she figured that home might be better, being the closest of the two.

Her mouth was dry, fear forming a lump in her throat as she swallowed hard and fought to hold back tears. As she started towards home, she told herself not to be afraid, that everything would be fine. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru probably knew the storm was coming, and were getting ready to come get her in the landspeeder. Then, even if they still got caught, she wouldn’t be alone. She took in a deep breath of the dry, hot air, already able to taste the dust on her tongue.

She walked as quickly as she could, even running at some points, her eyes fixed on the sandy pourstone of the entry dome, but the storm was faster than she was. She brought her sleeve to her mouth as the dust enveloped her, almost immediately reducing her visibility to zero. Sand grated at her eyes, and though she squeezed them shut it still stung, and even though she couldn’t see she kept going, moving slowly against the strong wind as sand scratched at her exposed skin.

She didn’t know how long she walked for, or where she was; for all she knew, she could have passed home a long time ago. Still she kept going, not wanting to stop and end up buried in sand. It felt like she slogged through the storm for hours, stumbling over the piles of sand that were starting to accumulate on the ground and trying her best to keep her mouth and eyes shut.

Leia was starting to consider giving up when she heard a voice, distant and unclear, calling to her through the sand. She stopped, listening, but all she could hear was the wind screaming in her ears. Maybe she was going crazy, she thought, from dehydration or dust inhalation, but then the voice sounded again, closer this time. She opened her eyes just a crack so that she was peering through her eyelashes, and turned every which way hoping to see who was calling to her. At first all she could see was dust, but then the figure of a person took shape, seeming to materialize out of the storm only a few feet away from her.

“Uncle?” she called, her voice muffled by the fabric of her sleeve. The person cried her name, and though it was difficult to hear, she could tell that it wasn’t Uncle Owen.

Leia watched, confused, as the figure grew clearer and larger, and then suddenly Ben Kenobi was standing in front of her, a swath of thick fabric wrapped around his face and goggles covering his eyes. He had another pair in his hands, and he didn’t say anything as he pulled them onto her face and over her eyes, protecting them from the onslaught of dust. Then he began wrapping a huge scarf around her mouth and nose, and though it smelled musty, Leia didn’t care at all.

“What are you doing?” she asked, shouting to be heard above the storm. “How did you find me?”

Old Ben didn’t answer, simply taking her hand and telling her, “Come.”

She let him lead her through the storm, wondering how he seemed to know where he was going, as though he could see through the thick, swirling clouds of dust that surrounded them. He wouldn’t answer any of the questions she asked, and so she soon gave up. She was beginning to wonder where they were going when he stopped suddenly and knelt down in front of her, his face only inches from hers, obscured by his goggles and scarf.

“You must be careful, Leia,” he said, and though she could see almost none of his face, she could hear the seriousness in his voice. “Trust in the Force — in yourself — and you will always know what to do.”

She was about to ask him what that meant when he was standing again and pushing her forward. The entry dome materialized in front of her, summoned from the depths of the storm, and when she turned to look back Ben Kenobi was gone, as if he had simply turned to dust and been swept away.

◊◊◊

Luke was twelve the first time Father allowed him to sit in on a Senate meeting. He had been inside the Senate building before, and he’d seen the room where they conducted their meetings, but never like this. Nearly every pod that filled the expansive, circular room was filled; there must have been thousands of them, each one filled with four or five senators and representatives. Alderaan’s own pod was seating Luke, Father, two representatives, and a junior legislator, only a few years older than Luke. The chatter of thousands of beings filled the air as everyone took their seats and waited for the session to begin.

The first topic for that day, Father had told him earlier, had to do with trade and new regulations the Emperor was seeking to impose. The regulations would not hurt Alderaan or any of the other Core Worlds, but many planets in the Mid and Outer Rims would be sorely affected.  

Despite being the leader of the Senate, the Emperor rarely attended any sessions, and today was no different. In his place was one of his advisors, who Father said would lead the debate and help steer the discussion towards a resolution. As the advisor’s pod rose in the centre of the room, everyone quieted. Several holocams seemed to appear from nowhere, flitting around the room as they recorded, most of them focused on the advisor.

He opened the session by reading out the proposed regulations and why they were thought to be necessary — something about ensuring the Empire’s control over the Outer Rim and increasing stability in the volatile region. Luke had never been to the Outer Rim before, but he knew that was where most of the galaxy’s poorest planets were. He wasn’t entirely sure how restricting trade to the region was going to help them.

He expected the debate to be heated, with senators yelling to be heard and eager to get their points across, but instead, each senator waited for their name to be called from a list of speakers, and then stood, delivering their carefully written speeches on why they supported the regulations or not. Very few, it seemed, opposed the regulations outright; they gave arguments for why they believed there should be amendments before passing them, but none suggested getting rid of them altogether. Very few of the speakers represented planets or sectors that would actually be affected by the regulations; most were humans from wealthy Core Worlds, giving their points of view as outsiders.

The debate lasted less than an hour, and the regulations were quickly passed, with no amendments whatsoever. Luke sat in his seat beside his father as those around them applauded, baffled by what he had just seen. Even he could tell that the regulations were idiotic, and would do nothing to help the Mid or Outer Rims. They were nothing more than a ploy for the Emperor to try and bring those few planets still out of his control into line.

As the Senate broke for recess, Luke stood, whirling on Father. “Why didn’t anyone stop that?” he demanded. “Why did everyone — why did _you_ — sit by and just let that happen? Those regulations are going to hurt people, and it doesn’t seem like anyone even _cares_.” He knew that the Emperor was a bad person, but he had always thought that the Senate, at least, was trying to help people — that _Father_ was trying to help people. 

“Luke.” Father placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him from the pod and out into the crowded hallway. They found a secluded alcove, where they would not draw attention or be overheard by the people milling about around him. “You must understand, to oppose the Emperor is very dangerous. You of all people should know this. The Senate has no real power, not like it used to; we are there to listen to the Emperor’s plans, and to approve them, but nothing else. If anyone did speak out, they would not change anything, and would instead end up putting themselves in danger. The Emperor is not a forgiving man, and if he believed anyone was planning to rebel against him, he would show no mercy.”

“Why is there even a Senate, then, if it doesn’t do anything?” Luke asked, scowling. Father had been a senator for all of Luke’s life, and for many years before that. All this time, he had thought Father was doing something important, something that mattered, while in reality his position was nothing but a show put on by a tyrannical regime.

Father sighed, running a hand over his hair, the dark spotted with flecks of grey. Wrinkles that hadn’t been there before were starting to show at the corner of his mouth and the space between his eyes, and Luke was sure his father was too young to look so old.

“I am sure the Emperor would love to be rid of the Senate,” Father said, his lips pressed together in a tight, serious line, “but he cannot do it without alienating the people. Not yet.” Father rested his hand on Luke’s shoulder once again, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know it’s frustrating, but there are other ways to fight back — that is what we must focus on.”

Luke took in a deep breath, and nodded. There was little way to oppose the Emperor from within the Senate, that was obvious to him now, but outside of it — in the rebellion — was where they would pick their fights. They were still small, but they were growing, and small victories were still victories.

The day was coming where they would finally be strong enough to take on the Empire.

◊◊◊

When Leia was thirteen, Uncle Owen decided to teach her how to use a blaster. She had been surprised, but pleased, when he made the offer, saying yes almost immediately — she’d been wanting to learn how to fire a blaster rifle for years.

They had their first lesson that afternoon, far out past the vaporators where she couldn’t accidentally hit anything. Uncle Owen showed her how to fire it first, pointing out all the important components and mechanisms. He gave a rather long-winded explanation on safety, most of which she already knew — never point it at somebody you don’t want to shoot, don’t point it at yourself, make sure the safety is on when you’re not going to fire, always have it braced against your shoulder when you fire.

As he carefully went through all the details, Leia made sure to look like she was paying close attention. She’d already fired a blaster before, though it had only been Biggs Darklighter’s dinky old pistol, not a rifle like Uncle Owen’s, but the principle was the same. She was sure he’d be mad if he found out, though, so she kept her mouth shut and let him talk.

He gave her a demonstration, firing a few bolts off into the desert, then carefully handed the rifle to her. She held it just like he’d shown her, with one hand near the trigger and the other gripping the forearm. Making sure it wasn’t pointing at anything or anyone, she released the safety, and Uncle Owen took a step back, as if nervous that she might accidentally shoot him.

“Careful now,” he said. “Watch out for the kickback.”

She flashed him a confident smile, but she wasn’t sure it helped.

Bracing it against her shoulder, she pressed her cheek against the cool metal of the rifle and peered through the sights down the barrel. There wasn’t much to aim at except for the sky or the sand, so she chose a spot straight ahead of her and pressed down on the trigger. Despite Uncle Owen’s warning, the recoil still surprised her, the rifle jumping back as she fired. It caused the bolt to change its trajectory a bit, exploding into the sand several metres ahead of them instead of sailing off towards the horizon like she’d wanted.

“I said to watch out for that kickback.” Uncle Owen smirked. “Try again.”

Leia huffed, scowling, and brought the rifle back up, tightening her grip on it. She squeezed one eye shut, focusing on a single spot in the distance, and fired. This time she was expecting the recoil, and braced herself against it, but it still jerked the rifle, sending the bolt a few metres off target.

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” Uncle Owen said, patting her on the shoulder. “Here, I brought some things for you to aim at.” He walked over to the landspeeder, pulling out a crate filled with pieces of scrap metal, most of them from old droids or speeders and broken beyond any use. He set the crate down a few metres away, dumping its contents onto the sand and then turning it onto its side. Picking up some of the larger scraps, he lined them up along the crate, a few inches apart from each other.

“There.” He stood, wiping the dust from his hands and coming to stand beside her. “See if you can hit any of those.”

Leia eyed the pieces of metal, frowning. She couldn’t even fire right when she was aiming at the _horizon_ , so she doubted she would be able to hit anything smaller than a mountain. Still, she hefted the rifle up to her shoulder, closing one eye as she looked down the sights at the first piece of scrap on the crate. It was impossible to tell what it was, scorched and warped by heat, but it looked as if it might have been some component in a turbine engine. She made sure to take the recoil into account as she aimed, sucking in a deep breath of air and then holding it as she fired.

To her surprise, the plasma bolt hit the engine part right in its centre, knocking it off the crate.

“Hey, look at that!” Uncle Owen cried, slapping her proudly on the back. “Not too bad!”

Leia looked at him, grinning. She had expected her shot to be off by a mile, and as she aimed for the next piece of scrap, she hoped she hadn’t simply gotten lucky. But she hit that one too, though not directly in the centre like she had with the first one. She missed the third, but managed to knock it down with a second try; the same happened with the fourth.

“You’re doing quite well for your first time,” Uncle Owen commented. “If you practice enough, you’ll be a crack shot in no time.” There was pride in his smile as he looked at her, which made Leia’s heart swell up in her chest.

“Thanks,” she muttered, returning his smile with one of her own.  

Two weeks later Uncle Owen bought her a slugthrower and taught her how to use it. It was older than a blaster rifle, with a longer, thinner barrel, and it shot solid projectiles instead of bolts, but Leia was still incredibly pleased with it. She practiced shooting for weeks, using every spare moment she could, until it became second nature to her.  

◊◊◊

When he was thirteen, Luke demanded to be taught how to fly.

He’d been asking for years, but his parents had never allowed it, claiming that he was too young. At thirteen, Luke felt he was now old enough to be taught, and that was exactly what he told his parents one night over dinner.

“I don’t know why you’re so against it,” he said, frowning as he pushed his food around on his plate.

Across the table, Father sighed, setting his cutlery down. “We’re not against you learning to fly, Luke. We just don’t think you’re old enough. Not yet.”

“You’ve been saying that for years,” Luke argued. “When am I going to be old enough?”

“I’ll let you know when you are.”

Luke scowled, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Just last week you were talking to me about becoming a junior legislator. So you think I’m old enough to be a representative for Alderaan in the Imperial Senate, but not old enough to fly?”

Mother smirked into her wine glass, glancing between Luke and Father. “He has a point,” she muttered, lowering her glass. Father cast her an annoyed glance, as if to ask her whose side she was on, and she simply shrugged, diverting her attention back to her food.

“Why are you so desperate to fly, anyway?” Father asked.

Luke was silent for a moment, before responding, “I just… I just want to. I’ve always wanted to.” Father sighed, running a hand along the back of his neck.

“Bail.” Mother leaned over, placing her hand on Father’s forearm. “If you keep him from it for too long, he’ll just end up teaching himself.”

“It’s a useful skill, you know,” Luke added, more hopeful now that it seemed his mother was agreeing with him. “Just as useful to have as ballroom dancing or… or Mando’a. Maybe even more useful.”

For a long while his father said nothing, a contemplative look etched onto his face.

“Come now, Bail,” Mother said, giving him a gentle shake. “There’s no harm in it, is there?”

“Do you really think he’s ready?” Father asked, one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

“He said it himself,” Mother said. “If he’s old enough to be a _politician_ , I think he’s old enough to fly. I really don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this.”

There was a brief pause, and then Father leaned forward, linking his hands together in front of him. “Alright.” Luke paused, almost unable to believe what he was hearing. Father continued, “I’ll start looking for instructors. You can begin lessons as soon as I find one.”

“Really?” Luke looked quickly from his father to his mother, as if he could get the truth from their faces. “You’re being serious?”

“Yes, I am.” Father nodded, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But you’ll only have lessons on the weekends, when you don’t have any other lessons or engagements.”

Luke nodded vigorously, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Of course, of course. Whatever you say.” He was almost laughing from joy, so excited by the prospect of _finally_ learning to fly. He looked behind Father to the wide picture windows that took up an entire wall of the dining room, outside to where he could see ships of all makes flitting about in the late afternoon sky. As he watched, one soared high up into the atmosphere, growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared, vanishing into the expanse of space.

Soon enough, that would be him.

◊◊◊

At fourteen, Leia asked Biggs Darklighter to teach her how to fly.

She had never been very interested in flying before — she knew how to drive a landspeeder and she knew how to shoot, and that was good enough for her. Recently, however, Camie had been dragging her out to watch Biggs and his friends race their T-16s. The races hadn’t increased her interest in flying by much, but a few days ago Deak had made a comment about how girls couldn’t fly.

That was really what had piqued her interest.

So, she’d sought out Biggs, the best pilot she knew. He’d won nearly all the races that Leia had attended, and even though his competition wasn’t the best, she could still see that he had some talent.

She found him in Tosche Station, in front of the mechanic’s shop where his friend Laze worked. He and his group of friends were always hanging out around the shop, when they weren’t off pulling stunts in Beggar’s Canyon. How they all weren’t dead, nothing but dark bloody marks on the canyon wall, was beyond Leia’s comprehension.

Biggs’s response when she asked him to teach her was a laugh and a curious look. “Why do you want to learn how to fly, Skywalker? You’ve never showed much interest in it before.”  

“Why does it matter?” she asked, slumping against the wall with her arms crossed, scowling at him.

“You aren’t trying to impress me, are you?” Biggs grinned, one dark eyebrow raised. “If so, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

Leia’s scowl deepened. “Don’t be so egotistical, Darklighter.”

“So if it’s not me, then what is it?” he asked. “Are you gonna try and win some glory in the races?”

She scoffed. “I’d hardly call racing skyhoppers in Beggar’s Canyon glorious. I don’t have any particular reason, okay? Flying’s a valuable skill to have, and as much as it pains me to say it, you’re the best pilot I know.”

Biggs’s grin grew impossibly wider and he leaned back, crossing his feet in front of him. “What do I get in return, if I agree to teach you?”

Leia resisted the urge to curl her lip up in disgust. “How I about I teach you how to actually use a blaster?” she offered, smirking. In the year since she’d learned how to shoot, she’d become quite proficient at it, even with just a slugthrower, getting better than people four or five years older than her — like Biggs Darklighter, for example.

From inside the shop, Laze let out a loud cackling laugh, and Biggs turned to glare at him over his shoulder. “Can it, Fixer!” he called. “Got a better offer, Skywalker?”

She shrugged. “Sorry. Unfortunately, I don’t have many other marketable skills.”

Biggs stared at her for a long while, his eyes squinting as if he was looking at the suns. She was starting to think he was just going to stare at her until she walked away when he stood suddenly, stretching his hand out towards her.

“Alright, let’s do it,” he said. “I teach you how to fly, and you show me how a fourteen-year-old girl became one of the best shots on the Great Chott salt flat, and with a slugthrower, no less.”

Leia took his hand, hoping the steely determination she felt showed on her face. “Alright. You’ve got a deal.”

◊◊◊

Luke was fourteen when he became a junior legislator for the Imperial Senate. He was one of the youngest representatives ever elected, and certainly the youngest for Alderaan, but it was a role for which his parents had been preparing him for years. The people of Alderaan trusted him to be their voice, and he would not let them down.

His parents, incredibly proud, had insisted on hosting a celebratory dinner. It was a relatively small affair compared to some of the other events his family hosted, with the guests mainly consisting of relatives and close friends, but it was still more than Luke felt he needed. He did not need any celebration at all. Though he had been surrounded by attention all his life, it felt odd to be the centre of it now. Before, all the attention on him had been because he was Alderaan’s crown prince — her future king. Now it was because of his own accomplishments, and though he knew it was deserved — or at least his parents insisted it was — it still felt unnecessary and extravagant.

He stood beside his mother and father as everyone milled about in one of the sitting rooms, waiting for dinner to be served. Droids wandered around serving drinks, and people kept continually coming up and congratulating him, shaking his hand and patting him on the back. Many of them were senators whom his father had worked with for many years, and they all commented on how eager they were to begin working with him. Of them, it was Mon Mothma who seemed the most excited. She was a serious woman, and did not often show much emotion, but she smiled proudly at him as she shook his hand. She had been friends with his father since before the Clone Wars, and had acted as Luke’s political and diplomatic tutor since he was a child, making her one of the reasons they were all there now, celebrating.

“I expect a great many things from you, Prince Luke,” she said, clasping his hand with both of hers. “I’m certain you will impress us all.”

He nodded gratefully, returning her smile. “Thank you, Senator Mothma. I will do my best.”

“I am sure you will,” she said.

Dinner was served a few minutes later, and everyone began making their way to the dining room. Mother took her seat at the head of the long table, with Luke to her left and Father to her right. After everyone was seated, glasses of emerald wine in front of them, his parents both stood. They thanked everyone for being there and helping them celebrate Luke’s appointment as a junior legislator, their own glasses cradled carefully in their hands.

“Alderaan has been deeply involved in the Senate since its founding hundreds of years ago,” Mother said, her free hand resting on Luke’s shoulder as she spoke. “We have always prided ourselves on our involvement, and that does not change now. I always knew that Luke would go on to one day accomplish many great things, and it seems I was right.” She looked down at him, her pride visible on her face as tears welled in her eyes. Luke reached up, covering her hand with his. She continued, “My son, you will be one of the youngest people in the Senate, but I know you will be able to hold your own. You have a passion in you for what is right, and I know it will help you to bring peace and justice to Alderaan, and to the galaxy.”

His father raised his glass, the dark green wine sparkling in the sunlight filtering in through the windows. “To the galaxy,” he said, “and to Luke.”

Cries of “To Prince Luke!” and “To the galaxy!” circled around the table, and everyone raised their glasses high. Luke smiled, raising his own glass in response.

The dinner lasted several hours, not ending until night had fallen. Some guests left to return to their own homes, while those who had come from off-world retired to the palace’s guest wing. As the last guests disappeared down the hallway to their rooms, Luke’s father approached him, placing an arm across his shoulders. He led Luke to a quiet alcove, away from any servants or droids, and they both sat down on the cushioned bench.

“I know I have told you already,” Father started, “but I am very proud of you. You have become quite the young man.” A smile crossed his face, and to Luke it looked strangely sad, as if he was recalling some long-ago memory. “You remind me more of your mother every day.”

Luke smiled, and sat up straighter. “Thank you, Father. I only hope that, one day, I’ll be as great a politician and leader as you and Mother are.”

Father’s smile brightened, but Luke could see that some of that sadness still lingering behind his eyes. He placed a warm hand on Luke’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “Oh, I think you have already are,” he said, and Luke hoped that he was right.

◊◊◊

Leia was fifteen, and Uncle Owen was sending her to Mos Eisley to pick up parts for the vaporators. He had only begun allowing her to go into Mos Eisley by herself in the past year, and though she’d already gone a few times, the trips still excited her. The fact Uncle Owen trusted her enough to go alone made her feel more like an adult, and less like the child he often seemed to think she still was.

The spaceport was busy that day, with sentients of all species milling about doing their shopping. As was usual for Mos Eisley, most were carrying a weapon of some kind, and more than a few looked like they had been in their fair share of fights.  Leia moved quickly through the streets, careful to avoid getting in anyone’s way. Though she enjoyed her trips to Mos Eisley, the city also frightened her, and she made sure to keep her slugthrower easily accessible. Like any large settlement on Tatooine, Jabba the Hutt’s thugs were known to frequent the city’s various locales, and it was unwise to cross a bounty hunter or smuggler in his employ — they rarely hesitated to shoot. 

The mechanics shop was bustling with activity when she arrived. Droids and organics alike perused the parts and machines that seemed to cover every available surface, all of it covered in a layer of dust and grease. Most of it was junk, bits and pieces taken from old speeders and droids that weren’t even useable anymore. She let out a quiet laugh as she picked up a blaster that, somehow, had been cut in half, the barrel shorn clean off. She fiddled with the trigger, inspecting the cut mark. It was a surprisingly clean cut, and some of the metal even seemed a bit melted, as if it had been exposed to high temperatures. From what she could tell it had been an L-23 blaster pistol, a model rather common among Jabba’s thugs and easily available on the black market. Shaking her head, she dropped it back onto the shelf.

It took several minutes of digging to find the parts that Uncle Owen needed, and thankfully most of the ones she found seemed to be in good enough shape. She handed the shop owner a few wupiupi, and he merely nodded in thanks as she shoved the parts into her bag and left. Once outside, Leia carefully counted the wupiupi she had left over, wondering if Uncle Owen would miss one or two coins. She had been trying for over a year to save up and buy a new blaster rifle, but they were unfortunately expensive, and only so much money could be made from shooting womp rats. In the end, she decided he likely wouldn’t notice, and pocketed two of the coins for herself, telling herself it was her pay for doing this for her uncle.

She began making her way back to where she had left the speeder, away from the main streets and carefully protected against thieves. She had just turned a corner onto a smaller side street when someone shoved into her, nearly knocking her off balance and throwing her against the wall. Her hands immediately reached for the slugthrower strapped to her back, but she paused when she saw it was an old man, his weathered face scrunched up and a look of fear in his eyes.

A gloved hand reached out and pulled the old man away, and then Leia was standing face to face with two Niktos.

Her heart jumped in her chest, and she took in a sharp breath. Jabba the Hutt was known to employ numerous Niktos, and by the rough exterior of the two facing her now, she had a good idea as to who they worked for. She pressed herself up against the wall and stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do.

“Please,” the old man croaked. Leia glanced at him only briefly, too afraid to take her eyes off the Nikto thugs for long. “Help me.” The thug holding him shook him violently, snapping at him to shut up.

“Move along, kid,” the other said, adjusting his grip on his blaster rifle.

“What… what are you doing with him?” Leia asked, her mouth dry as she spoke. She could feel the fear coursing through her body, as thick and real as blood. Her eyes flicked to the rifle clutched in the thug’s hands, and then back up to his horned face.

“It’s no matter to you,” he said. “If I were you, I’d get moving.” He shoved her shoulder violently, and that managed to get her feet moving. She hurried away, clutching her bag and cursing herself for not being brave enough to help the old man. She didn’t know what he’d done, but the fear in his eyes had been genuine. Crossing one of Jabba’s thugs, however, was a stupid move; if you got yourself in trouble with a Hutt, you were as good as dead.

Behind her, the man started yelling for help, but no one answered his pleas. His cries were silenced by the sickening crack of metal against bone.

Leia didn’t slow down until she reached the speeder, her heart still thundering in her chest.

◊◊◊

When he was fifteen, Luke flew by himself for the first time. He had been taking weekly lessons for nearly two years, and had flown with an instructor and completed flight simulations countless times, but he’d never been allowed to fly alone before. The thought exhilarated him, and he could feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he climbed into his flight suit. He would be flying — actually flying. There would be no one else to take over the controls if he messed up, and no one to teach him what to do if something went wrong. The thought was terrifying, but also exciting — soon enough, he would be a real pilot.

His flight instructor patted him reassuringly on the shoulder as he entered the hangar. He was a grizzled old man by the name of Lorth Pavish, a Pamarthan who had been a starpilot for well over forty years. According to Luke’s father he was a member of the rebellion, though he wasn’t very active and mostly taught new recruits how to fly. He had been Luke’s instructor since he started flying lessons. Despite his gruff appearance and terrifyingly loud voice, however, he was a good instructor, and a better person.

“You’ll be fine, kid,” he said, giving Luke a gentle shove. He had long ago done away with treating Luke like royalty. “You’re a good pilot with some real talent. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you’re out there flying in the thick of it all.”

Luke smiled. “Thanks,” he said, though he tried not to scoff. He had thought about flying with the rebellion before, but when he had brought up the idea with Father it had been shot down nearly immediately. He was a politician, his father told him, a diplomat and a leader, not a fighter pilot. Luke had tried arguing that the rebellion was in desperate need of fighters, but Father had insisted that he was too young to fight anyways. And maybe that was true now, but it wouldn’t always be — though Luke had a feeling he wouldn’t be allowed to fly for the rebellion then either.

“Don’t worry too much,” Lorth said. “Just do as I’ve taught you.”

Luke nodded, and headed towards his ship. It was an old RZ-1T trainer A-wing, the same type Lorth used to train rebel pilots and the one he’d used to train Luke. It was a little beat up from over two decades of use, but it still worked well enough. A ladder was already hanging from the side of the ship, and Luke quickly climbed it, jumping into the cockpit. Since it was a trainer starship, there was a second seat for an instructor behind the pilot’s seat; for the first time, it would be empty while Luke was flying.

He slipped his helmet onto his head as the ladder was taken away and the cockpit slid closed, encasing him in transparisteel. The headset within the helmet crackled to life, and Lorth’s voice sounded in his ear.

“How you doing, kid?” he asked.

“Great,” Luke replied, flipping the switches that adorned the dashboard, one after the other. He had memorized the start-up sequence long ago, and it was almost like second nature to him now. The engines flared to life and the systems came online, screens lighting up in front of him. Up above, the doors to the hangar were wide open. The skies outside were blue, with only a few white clouds in sight.  

“You’re all clear,” Lorth said.

Luke nodded. “Alright.” He took in a deep breath, placing both hands on the throttle and gripping it tightly. His hands felt sweaty inside the gloves of his flight suit, but he told himself to calm down — he had done this dozens of times before, and he could do it now.

Slowly, he began to lift the ship up off the ground, careful to keep it on target. As he ascended through the hangar doors, the world opened up around him. The palace towered behind him, the capital of Alderaan sprawled out around it, surrounded by mountains on all sides; their shape was as familiar to Luke as his own hand. Down below, the hangar grew smaller and smaller as he climbed, and he could see the miniscule figure of his father on the platform, watching him. In the past two years, Father had grown to accept the idea of Luke flying, and though he disliked how Luke sometimes dreamed of one day flying for the rebellion, Luke knew he was proud.

As he moved away from the platform, Luke pressed forward on the throttle, gradually increasing his speed until he was racing away from the mountains and the city into the sky. All around him was blue, stretching across his entire field of vision. Though his heart was pounding in his chest, he smiled, letting out a relieved breath.

“You’re doing good,” Lorth’s voice said in his ear. “Just make sure you don’t get lost up there.”

Luke’s smile widened. “I won’t,” he promised.

He increased his speed, mounting higher until the atmosphere melted away and blue turned to black, speckled with the bright, distant lights of stars. Though he had been in space hundreds of times before, it seemed all the more breathtaking this time, when he was the only one in control of the ship. He could go anywhere he wanted — no one could stop him. Alderaan lay on the Commenor Run, which could take him to the Perlemian Trade Route, leading him to Coruscant or any number of other planets, all the way to the Outer Rim.

He reached for the hyperdrive controls. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the time to go to Coruscant, and certainly not the Outer Rim. One day he would, but for now, he decided that Brentaal was far enough. He punched in the coordinates and reached up to flip off the comlink in his helmet. If anyone tried to reach him he knew he would be in no small amount of trouble when they realized he had turned off his comlink, but he was determined to take his time with this trip — within reason, of course.

As the navicomputer finished calculating the route, he carefully lowered the hyperdrive lever. The stars seemed to condense into a tunnel in front of him, and then they all blurred together into a mass of blue and he was gone.

◊◊◊

Leia was sixteen the first time she beat Biggs in a race.

Their lessons had been going on for over two years now, and she had discovered, much to her pleasure, that she was actually quite good at flying. She found it rather easy, once she had gotten the hang of it, and though she wasn’t better than Biggs, she was certainly better than Deak, which was good enough for her. (She also insisted that the only reason she wasn’t better than Biggs was because she wasn’t really trying to be better. And she wasn’t — she still preferred shooting to flying.)

Still, the competitive part of her wanted desperately to beat Biggs at least once. She’d raced him before, and had lost to him every single time. It was a trend that was beginning to irk her, and one she was determined to end.  

As such, she was confident when Biggs asked her to race, three weeks after their last face-off. As she didn’t have her own skyhopper, Laze let her borrow his T-16, with only a little hesitation; Leia was good at flying, but she was something of a careless pilot, and the cause of more than a few scratches on her friends’ skyhoppers. She was pretty sure the only reason Laze still let her use his was because he’d recently started dating Camie, who was probably the one who had convinced him to trust her.

She met up with Biggs near the northern mouth of Beggar’s Canyon. He was leaning against the side of his T-16, a cocky smirk curling his lips beneath the ridiculous mustache he’d been trying — and failing — to grow for the past four months. Deak was standing beside him, and Leia resisted the urge to flip him a rather rude and inappropriate gesture as she set Laze’s skyhopper down — she had never quite forgiven him for his comment on how girls can’t fly. Biggs pulled his headset on over his ears when she landed.

“Nice of you to show up, Skywalker.” His voice crackled through her own headset, and she scowled at him through the viewport. “I thought you were gonna bail on me.”

“Not a chance, Darklighter,” she shot back. “It took a while for me to convince Fixer to let me borrow his ride, is all.”

“I’m telling ya, kid, you should just get your own,” Biggs drawled. “It’d make everything a lot easier.”

Leia let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, with whose money? It took me almost two years to save up enough to buy my own blaster, and I know for a fact my uncle won’t help me buy a T-16. He doesn’t like me doing anything that isn’t working on the farm.”

Biggs’s grin widened. “Well you know, maybe you’d fly better in your own skyhopper.

“You’re lucky I’m all the way up here where I can’t punch you,” Leia threatened.

“I hate to interrupt this lovely conversation,” Deak’s voice cut in, a long-range comlink held to his mouth, “but I believe the reason we’re all sitting around here is because there’s supposed to be a race.”

“Right you are, Deak,” Biggs said, slapping his hand against the hull of his skyhopper.

Leia smirked. “Then let’s race, flyboy.”

Biggs gave her a quick two-fingered salute, which she returned in kind, before he turned and climbed into his skyhopper. Deak retreated to a safe distance, and gave the command for them to both start their engines once Biggs was all settled in.

“I trust you know how this goes, Skywalker,” Biggs said as she settled back into her seat, flipping switches and bringing her engine to life. “The first one to the other end of the canyon wins.”

“And for once it won’t be you. You’ve gotten a bit too cocky for my liking.”

Biggs chuckled. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

“Are you ready?” Deak asked, and Biggs and Leia both gave their positive confirmation. “Then I’ll see you both on the other side. Three… two… one… go!”

They both shot into the air, hurtling towards the canyon entrance. It was dangerous, racing in Beggar’s Canyon, with its narrow passes and sharp turns, but that was part of what made it so fun. Biggs shot ahead of her as they entered the canyon, and he managed to keep his advantage as they swerved through the first few turns, but Leia didn’t worry; she knew the canyon just as well as he did, and was confident she could find a way to overtake him.

She urged her skyhopper forward, pressing closer to Biggs with each second, a smirk tugging at her lips. Biggs was an excellent pilot — better than most — but he was predictable, especially when it came to racing in Beggar’s Canyon. The first half of the race went as she expected it to; Biggs kept his advantage, weaving around rock formations with practiced ease and skillfully keeping her from overtaking him. As they approached the middle of the race, Leia increased her speed even more, until she was as close to Biggs as she could get without crashing into him. They sped through a narrow passage, their wings only a breath away from scraping the sides, and Leia lifted her craft just a bit higher into the air.  

They burst out into an open field of rock, the Stone Needle towering above them. An outcropping jutted from the canyon wall just a few metres from the passage exit; Biggs always veered away from it, his path set on threading the needle. Leia usually followed, but this time she flew over the outcropping, gaining the few feet she needed to press her advantage. She passed by the Needle, and swung out in front of Biggs with a wide smile on her face. She sped up as much as she could, trying to put some distance between her and Biggs. All she needed to do was stay ahead of him until the end of the race.

She was careful, calculating her moves so as not to lose speed or give Biggs the advantage. He stayed hot on her trail the entire time, but she didn’t let him pass her. Her grip was tight on the controls the entire time, her jaw clenched. Relief flooded her body when the canyon’s exit came into view, but she quickly tamped it down; she still had to get there before she could win.

The walls narrowed leading up to the exit, and Leia had to maneuver her skyhopper carefully so as not to bash it against the rock. It quickly became too narrow for Biggs to pass her on the side, though he could still fly over and above her; she made sure to keep him in her sights, glancing back to ensure he wasn’t going to try anything.

Then the canyon walls fell away, and she was flying through the wide-open air, with Biggs behind her. She couldn’t stop the triumphant cry of joy that passed her lips — she’d won!

“Whoa, nice going there, Skywalker.” Deak’s voice came on over the comlink in her headset. She could see him not too far away, standing near a landspeeder. “You actually managed to beat Biggs.”

“Not too bad, kid,” Biggs chimed in, sounding almost proud, if not just a little irritated. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Leia laughed. “You better watch your back from now on, Darklighter,” she said.  

◊◊◊

Luke was sixteen when he completed his first mission for the rebellion by himself. He’d carried out missions before, multiple times, but there had always been someone else with him — a pilot or an operative or a soldier. But this time, it was just him. He shifted in his seat as he brought his ship out of hyperspace, staring through the viewport at the rapidly approaching planet in front of him.

It was a small and sparsely populated world named Polmar, unimportant in almost every way. It had been under Imperial control for over a decade now, used by the Empire to grow food for its rapidly expanding military. While the planet’s few inhabitants had put up a fight at first, they had almost all been subdued.

_Almost_ being the key word. There was a rebel cell operating off the planet that had recently joined the rebellion, and Luke had been sent to deliver aid to them that they desperately needed. Like many other planets under Imperial occupation, the people of Polmar were suffering; most of their food was taken by the Empire, and the trade sanctions imposed on the region had hit them hard. From what Luke understood, it was difficult to procure even the most basic of necessities. While the rebel cell there was small, the rebellion needed all the people it could get, and they were willing to part with a few crates of supplies to get them.

Polmar was located in a secluded region of the Mid Rim, a long way from any major hyperspace lanes or trade routes. It had little to offer but its fertile land, which the Empire exploited in full. Despite this, there was no blockade around the planet, and Luke didn’t see a single Star Destroyer or other Imperial ship. It was likely that, despite Polmar’s agricultural usefulness, it was still too small to be of any real significance.

He entered the coordinates of the rebel cell’s base into his ship’s computer, letting it guide him down to the planet’s surface. It was covered in wide plains of short yellow grass and deep canyons of dark brown rock, with winding rivers snaking their way along the bottoms. The rebels had built their base into the wall of one such canyon, and several of them were waiting for Luke at the top when he landed. An older woman approached him as he descended from his ship, reaching for his hand and grasping it tightly.

“Prince Luke,” she greeted, bowing her head. “My name is Odala Terek. I’m the leader of this group.” She smiled, and Luke could almost see the relief on her face. “You cannot understand how much this aid means to us. We will forever be indebted to the rebellion.”

Luke smiled, bowing his head in return. “It is no trouble,” he said. “We are willing to provide any help we can to you and your people.”

He helped them unload the crates and bring them over to the edge of the canyon, where a temporary pulley had been set up to lower them to the bottom. They were mostly filled with foodstuffs and medical supplies, most of which would be redistributed to the people of Polmar, but there were a few that contained blasters and power packs. Luke had learned early on that a rebel without a weapon would not last long against a stormtrooper.

As they lowered the crates, Odala told him about how the people of Polmar were suffering under the Empire. Everyone who was physically capable of working was sent to the fields to toil for long, grueling shifts. Food was restricted and rationed, and there often wasn’t enough — the Empire took as much as it could to feed its troops. Things had only grown worse in the past few years. People were becoming weak and malnourished, and their productivity diminished as a result. This, of course, didn’t sit well with the Imperials stationed on the planet, and they’d begun punishing people who didn’t meet their daily quotas. Odala and her rebels had been doing all they could to disrupt the Empire’s operations, but for a long time they hadn’t had the numbers or the means to be anything more than a nuisance.

“We were finally starting to do some damage when your rebellion contacted us,” Odala said, watching as a crate of blasters was loaded onto the pulley. “Now, with your help, we might be able to actually help our people.”

Luke placed a hand on her shoulder. She was older than either of his parents, her back stooped from years of working in the fields and her face weathered from the sun. He knew that Polmar was not alone in its struggle; like many other small planets, it was an easy target for exploitation under the Empire. Without its own representative in the Senate, there was no one to protest against the inhabitants’ suffering. They were often alone in their struggles.

He tightened his grip on her shoulder. “It’s your rebellion now, too,” he said.

◊◊◊

Leia was seventeen, and she could take a blaster rifle apart and put it back together in under fifteen minutes. She had finally gotten enough money to buy one of her own three months ago, and she would spend hours in the garage, disassembling and reassembling it over and over again, inspecting each piece and learning how they fit together. Even more time was spent shooting it; she had nearly perfected her aim, to the point where she was considered one of the best shots south of Mos Eisley (though she felt she was really one of the best on Tatooine).

Despite this, it was a skill that Uncle Owen seemed to disapprove of. Though he was the one who had originally taught her to shoot, it now often felt like he was discouraging her from pursuing it, becoming irritated whenever she practiced and snapping at her to quit wasting her time. She rarely listened, of course, though that only succeeded in making him angrier. It seemed as if her amount of chores had doubled in the past few months alone, as if he was trying to take up all her time with work on the farm.

She scowled, pulling an empty power pack from her rifle and replacing it with a new one. That morning, while checking the amount of water the vaporators had collected overnight, Uncle Owen had made her inspect each and every one for cracked or worn pieces, though she had checked them all only three days ago. It had taken her over two hours, but apparently, that had been too quick — Uncle Owen had been convinced she hadn’t done it properly, and had sent her back out to do it again. By the time she’d finally finished, the suns had been high in the sky and her cheeks had been flushed from the heat. She’d then spent the rest of the day helping Uncle Owen repair an old WED-15 Treadwell droid he’d bought from a group of Jawas a few weeks back. The droid was almost beyond hope, with several crucial parts broken or missing altogether, and it had taken them the entire day just to get it to turn on; it would be a while longer before they could actually get it working properly.

As soon as Uncle Owen had announced that they were done for the day, Leia had grabbed her blaster and gone outside to practice shooting, hoping to avoid getting dragged into helping Aunt Beru with the housework. Shooting was her escape from everything — it was one of the few things she genuinely enjoyed doing, and there was not much else one _could_ do on Tatooine, especially this far out on the salt flat, with their closest neighbour half an hour away by speeder.

She raised her blaster, taking aim at the crudely-made targets she’d constructed a few months back using sheets of old scrap metal too rusted for anything else. She’d placed them several metres away, but she didn’t take long to aim before firing, hitting each target, one after the other. It felt almost as if she could guide each bolt, visualizing where it should land and directing it there. They left behind smoking holes in the thin metal and Leia smirked, lowering her blaster. Shooting was really the only thing she was actually good at, and she took pride in her abilities.

She was considering moving the targets even further away when she heard Aunt Beru calling her name. It was evening, and the suns had already begun their slow descent below the horizon, so Aunt Beru was no doubt calling her inside for supper. Turning her blaster’s safety on, Leia slung it over her shoulder and quickly collected the targets, holding them rather awkwardly under her arms as she lugged them back to the garage. When she reemerged, Aunt Beru was still calling her name, sounding much more annoyed this time, and Leia raced across the hard-packed earth towards the entry dome.

As she turned to hurtle down the stairs, something compelled her to look back. She glanced over her shoulder, only then noticing the far-away figure on the horizon. It seemed to be a man riding atop a dewback, though he was neither moving towards the farm nor away from it. Instead he was simply sitting there, his gaze seemingly focused on her home — on her.

“Leia!” Aunt Beru’s voice resounded from inside, a tinge of anger in her tone, and it pulled Leia’s attention away from the mysterious man.

“Coming!” she called back, quickly descending the stairs, with only one glance back towards the man. He was still sitting there, immobile, as she disappeared inside.

She did not mention him to either her aunt or her uncle.

◊◊◊

When Luke was seventeen, the rebellion was transformed into the Alliance to Restore the Republic.

No longer was it just a loose grouping of rebel cells, operating with no direct leadership — it was an organization, an actual resistance movement, with a chancellor and members who all worked together towards a common goal.  A main base of operations had been set up on Dantooine, from which Mon Mothma, recently exiled and denounced for speaking up against the Emperor, would announce to the galaxy their intentions of fighting back against the Empire.

As one of the Alliance’s top leaders, Father would be attending the pronouncement, and he was taking Luke along with him. Father had been the unofficial leader of the rebellion since the Empire’s beginning, but since he was still currently a senator, he could not publicly announce himself as chancellor of the Alliance, as Mon Mothma could. Were it not for him, however, there would be no Alliance at all.

Luke looked across the room to where his father sat, writing out something on a datapad. They were on board the _Tantive IV_ , the blue blur of hyperspace streaking by the viewports as they hurtled towards Dantooine.

“Do you wish you could be the chancellor, Father?” Luke asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table in front of him.

Father paused in his writing, looking up at Luke. He seemed to consider Luke’s question for a moment, before sighing and responding, “No, not really. I’ve been leading the rebellion for over seventeen years, even if, in the beginning, there wasn’t much to lead. It’s nice to hand the mantle over to someone else, and Mon is more than capable for the role.” He paused, and smiled. “Besides, I’ll still be helping to lead the Alliance, even if I’m not its head.”

Luke nodded. His father had always put everything he had into one day restoring peace and freedom to the galaxy; even though he now could, Luke knew he would never stop or slow down until the job was done. Luke smiled, turning his attention towards the viewport.

He was relieved when they finally arrived in the Dantooine system, the blue of hyperspace falling away to reveal a lush, green planet covered in swirling white clouds. He had never been to Dantooine before, though Father had once described both the planet and the rebel base it hid to him in great detail. He stood, moving to another viewport in hopes of finding a better view of the planet dangling in front of them.

As they made their slow approach, Luke and Father prepared to disembark. They would not be staying on Dantooine for long, though Luke wished otherwise. Father, however, wanted to avoid even spending the night, if at all possible. It was too much of a risk to stay longer, for both of them. Father had come under suspicion of being a rebel sympathizer a few years back, and though there had never been any evidence, that scrutiny had increased after Mon Mothma’s exile — the two of them were known to have worked closely before, and as a result, Father had to take great care when it came to his involvement with the Alliance.

Their ship entered Dantooine’s atmosphere not far from the base. From what Luke could see the planet appeared to be completely flat, with not a mountain or a hill in sight. An expansive forest loomed in the distance, but they did not head towards it, instead they travelling east, the tall grass rippling like waves beneath them.

The base was crawling with activity when they arrived, with people running around outside the buildings and ships landing wherever there was space.  The rebellion’s fleet had grown substantially over the years, a task that Luke himself had helped with. They now had a force that could potentially stand up to the Empire, and it would only keep growing.

A space had been cleared for them to land, and an officer was waiting for them when they disembarked to take them to Mon Mothma. She lead them across the tarmac to the main building that all the others seemed to be centered around; it was square in shape, squat but wide, and made out of a light, sandy-coloured stone. Inside, they followed the officer through similarly-coloured halls filled with light that filtered in through windows in the ceiling. The corridors felt as if they stretched on for miles, past command rooms and barracks and shuffling Alliance soldiers. At one point, Luke caught a glimpse into what could only be the hangar, filled with starfighters and pilots in bright orange flight suits. He paused, only briefly, for a longer look, but unfortunately he couldn’t stop for fear of losing Father and the officer in the crowded hallways.

Finally, they stopped in front of a small, rather unimpressive door. The officer palmed the control pad, and the door slid open to reveal the large, light-filled room that lay beyond. Mon Mothma stood at the far wall gazing out of a large picture window to the grounds below, her hands crossed in front of her long white dress. Several other people inhabited the room, some of whom Luke recognized from the Senate. Others were generals in the Alliance military, or other important high-ranking rebel officials.

“Viceroy Bail Organa and Prince Luke Organa, Chancellor,” the officer announced. Mon Mothma turned, thanking the officer, who nodded and slipped back out the door.

A small, gentle smile tugged at Mon’s lips, and she bowed her head in greeting. “I am glad you could make it, Bail,” she said. “And Luke as well.”

“I would not miss this for anything,” Father said, returning Mon’s smile with one of his own. Luke could see the pride in his father’s smile — pride that something big, something important, had finally come of his rebellion.

Pleasantries were exchanged. Luke made sure to speak to everyone in the room, as he had been taught to do. Though he did not know all of those present, it seemed as if they all knew him. He felt terribly out of place, a seventeen-year-old in a room full of the most important people in the Rebel Alliance, but being a part of the Senate, it was a sensation he was well accustomed to.

Finally, Mon took her place at the front of the room, and everyone quieted. She addressed them briefly, her words full of hope as she spoke of bringing an end to the Empire’s tyranny. They all clapped, nodding and smiling in agreement. The camdroid floating in front of her began recording, broadcasting her image and her voice to every corner of the galaxy, and she began her Declaration of Rebellion.

It was addressed directly to the Emperor himself, and Luke listened, his expression serious, as she spoke of the various crimes and trespasses of the Empire, and made clear the intentions of the Rebel Alliance. They would bring an end to the Empire’s despotic rule, no matter the cost, and restore freedom to the galaxy — it was not only their duty, she insisted, but their right.

She finished, her head held high with pride, and though the transmission ended, Luke could almost hear her words continuing to echo throughout the galaxy.

◊◊◊

Leia was eighteen, and she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. The only thing she knew for certain was that she wanted to get off Tatooine, as soon as possible.

That, of course, would be no easy feat. Uncle Owen needed her help on the farm, and there was no way he would ever let her leave. She didn’t know where she’d go, anyway — she didn’t have a ship, and she didn’t have any money.

With a sigh, she leaned back, resting her head on the rough stone wall behind her. Camie sat beside her, a bored look on her face as she picked absentmindedly at a loose thread on her shirt sleeve. They were in the garage at the Darklighter family farm; Biggs had crashed his T-16 two days ago, and while he himself was unhurt, the same could not be said for his skyhopper. He’d asked Leia, Laze, and Windy to come help him make repairs on it, and Camie had tagged along mainly because she had nothing better to do. The only reason Leia had agreed to help was because Biggs had promised them all free alcohol when they were done.

“I can’t wait to get off this sand heap,” Leia muttered, scuffing her foot along the dusty floor. Biggs and Laze had gotten into an argument on how to best fix the inertia damper coils ten minutes ago and they still hadn’t let up, so Leia and Windy had decided to take a break. Windy had wandered off to try and find a better hydrospanner, though Leia didn’t think he would be very successful. 

Camie looked at her, dropping her hands into her lap. “How are you going to do that?” she asked.

“Any way I can,” Leia replied. “Anywhere is better than here.”

“You can’t just leave,” Camie argued. “What about your aunt and uncle?”

Leia shrugged. “They’ll be fine. Uncle Owen has gotten a lot of help from the new droids, and he’s planning on buying even more soon. He won’t need my help after that. I’ll miss them, of course, but… I just can’t spend the rest of my life moisture farming on this rock. You can’t possibly want to spend your whole life here, either.”

Camie glanced down at her hands, picking at the dirt caught beneath her fingernails. “It’s a simple life, Leia, and it’s not an easy one. But that doesn’t mean it’s bad.” She sighed. “There’s nowhere I could go, anyways.”

“So? Come with me.” Leia turned to Camie and leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “We’ll hop on a ship and go wherever it takes us. I’m sure we could find enough work to live off of — we’re both smart, we have skills. We could see the galaxy, Camie.” It certainly wasn’t the most realistic plan — Leia knew it would never work — but it was a future she still liked to dream about.

“And what? Spend the rest of our lives going from one planet to the next, working odd jobs and never settling down anywhere? I’d like to get off Tatooine just as much as you, Leia, but it’s just not possible.” Camie frowned, her forehead creasing as she looked at Leia. “You could actually get away from here, you know,” she continued, “without jumping on some random ship. You have a valuable skillset; you could apply to the Academy, join the military. They’d accept you in a heartbeat, you know that. There’s no one on Tatooine who’s better with a blaster than you.”

Leia’s face crinkled with disgust. “And join the _Empire_? I’d rather not. They’re scum, Camie, and you know it. Laze knows it, too. I’m not going to join the Academy like Biggs and Windy just because it’s an easy way off this rock.” She had heard far too many stories about the brutality of the Empire to want to have anything to do with them; they’d never bothered much with Tatooine, had largely left them alone, but in her book, they were just as bad, if not worse, than the Hutts. Biggs and Windy had heard the stories too, and she knew they disliked the Empire, but their need to get off Tatooine and see the galaxy was greater than their hatred for the Galactic Empire. Leia almost, _almost_ , agreed with them.

What she would really like to do is join the rebellion. There had been rumours circling for years about rebels who were fighting back against the Empire, and only a year ago they had organized themselves into some sort of alliance, though most of the news Leia had seen regarding that turn of events had been nothing more than Imperial propaganda — despite Tatooine’s relative isolation and the Empire’s complete disinterest in them, the Imperial arm was long, and it had a far reach.

“It would still be a way off,” Camie said, pulling Leia away from thoughts of a far-away rebellion. “A safe, realistic way.”

“Maybe I don’t want safe or realistic,” Leia countered, one eyebrow raised. “Maybe I’ll become a bounty hunter. They make some good money.” She smirked; she was _mostly_ joking.

“They’re also criminals,” Camie pointed out. “Are you telling me you’d work for Jabba the Hutt, but not the Empire?”

“I’d work for whoever payed me the most.” Leia laughed, gently shoving Camie’s arm. “I’m only kidding, Cam, you know that.”

Camie’s eyes narrowed. “It’s hard to tell with you sometimes.”

Windy returned then, holding the same rusted hydrospanner he’d had when he left. He looked to the other side of the room, where Biggs and Laze were still arguing; it looked as if it might soon explode into an actual fight. Sighing, he set the hydrospanner down on a worktable and stalked over to the two, squeezing in between them and pushing them apart. “Kriffing hell, you guys, that’s enough,” he said, scowling. “Are you really fighting over inertia damper coils? It’s not that big of a deal.”

Leia stood, walking over and placing a hand on both Biggs’s and Laze’s shoulders. “Why don’t we just get back to work,” she suggested, “and let Windy handle the inertia damper coils.”

Biggs sighed and nodded, taking a step back. “Yeah, alright,” he said.

“There we go.” Leia patted him on the back, smiling. She grabbed a sonic welder from the worktable and pressed it into his heads. “Now, let’s get this thing fixed before you and Windy take off for the Academy,” she said. “I need to beat you at least one more time before you go and become some hot-shot fighter pilot.”

Biggs’s frustration melted away into a grin. Even though he was going to an Imperial Academy, Leia couldn’t help the jealousy that rose within her. He and Windy were leaving Tatooine, going off to make something of themselves — it was something she could only dream of doing.  

But one day soon, she would follow them. She’d make sure of that.  

◊◊◊

Luke was eighteen, and he was the Senator for Alderaan. Father had retired, and Luke had been elected to take his place, only two months ago. It was unsure how much longer the Senate would last — it was becoming increasingly powerless, and it was only a matter of time until the Emperor disbanded it entirely. Most of its power had already been transferred over to the various planetary governors and Moffs, and it was now nothing more than a rubber stamp.

But while it lived, Luke was a senator, and part of the role of a senator was attending events.

Within his first month as senator, Luke had already attended over half a dozen different functions and receptions. It felt as if there was one occurring each week, and he was invited to them all. He went, of course, because that was the proper thing to do, but it was tiring. You were expected to make conversation with everyone you could, and as he was often the youngest person in attendance, he couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

But this is what he had been trained for since he was a child; he knew what to say and he knew who to say it to. Father always said that Luke had been born with a great talent for diplomacy, one that Mother and many tutors had honed over the years. He would not become a senator so young without it.

It was at one of these events, the reception to a ceremony honouring a squadron of troopers for some great deed or another, that Luke met Darth Vader for the first time.

Like the rest of the galaxy, Luke was well-acquainted with the horrific deeds of the Emperor’s Right Hand. Massacres, tortures, imprisonments: all to enforce the will of the Emperor. There were few he could think of who embodied the evil of the Empire so well as Lord Vader.

When he had first become a junior legislator, Father had warned Luke to avoid Vader as best as he could. It was advice he had happily followed; the number of times he had been in the same room as Vader could be counted on one hand, and he always made sure not to linger for too long.

As such, when Vader arrived at the reception, Luke immediately began planning for his own departure, though it had scarcely been an hour since the event began. Even without his father’s warning, there was something about Vader that made him uneasy and anxious; something that went beyond the imposing black suit and brutal history. It was as if he could feel the evil emanating off him. He was about to begin saying his goodbyes to the other guests, his excuse already prepared, when an aide approached him.

The man looked nervous, his hands twitching at his sides, as he politely bowed his head in greeting. “Excuse me, Prince Luke, but Lord Vader wishes to speak with you.”

Luke’s heart immediately dropped to his stomach. His first thought was that he’d been found out; Vader knew he was a member of the Alliance, and he was going to be captured and taken away, tortured for any information he had and likely executed — there was no mercy for rebels in the Galactic Empire. Though his immediate instinct was to run, Luke quickly quelled the panic growing within him, hoping that none of it showed on his face.

“What does he wish to speak about?” he asked, careful to keep voice calm and even.

“I am afraid I don’t know,” the aide said, and Luke could see a sheen of sweat on his forehead. It appeared even Imperials were afraid of Darth Vader.

Luke took in a deep breath, nodding. “Alright, then. Take me to him.”

The aide nodded and lead Luke to the front of the room, where Vader was deep in conversation with Grand Moff Tarkin. Luke lingered off to the side for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back, until Vader dismissed Tarkin; the Grand Moff didn’t even spare Luke a single glance before turning and leaving. Luke stepped forward, stopping just a few feet in front of Vader, and bowed his head.

“Lord Vader, you wished to speak with me?”

Vader nodded. “Yes, indeed.” The voice that emanated from the mask was almost wholly mechanical, deep and barely human. The breath that followed was unnerving in that it was entirely inhuman, a product of the suit trying to keep whatever creature that lurked within it alive. There were rumours about what Vader really was, beneath the mask. Some said he wasn’t actually a human, but rather some other species unable to live outside the atmosphere of his home planet; others said he was a human, but one with a body so damaged he couldn’t survive without constant life support. Luke himself believed Vader was human, but he was unsure what could damage someone so much that they needed a life-support suit to survive.  

Vader continued, “I wished to congratulate you on your appointment as senator, on behalf of both myself and the Emperor. It is not often that an eighteen-year-old is elected senator of a prominent Core World.”

Luke did not allow himself to feel relief quite yet — it could all be an elaborate trap.

“Thank you, Lord Vader,” he said, bowing his head once again. “It’s an honour to serve in the Imperial Senate as the representative of my people.”

“Yes, I am sure it is. Alderaan has always enjoyed great political participation, and it is my hope that it continues to do so. You and your colleagues are highly valued by the Imperial government.”

His words rang with the sentiments of a threat — a warning. Luke plastered a smile onto his face, hoping to hide the fear he felt inside. “I assure you, Lord Vader, Alderaan will forever be willing to contribute what it can to the success of the Empire.”

“That is good to hear, Your Highness,” Vader said, and Luke felt that, beneath the mask, he was smirking. “I shall pass on your sentiments to the Emperor.”

“Thank you,” Luke said. With that, he sensed that the conversation was over. Clasping his hands behind his back, he bowed. “It has been an honour speaking with you, Lord Vader.” Vader merely nodded in response, and that was all the dismissal Luke needed; he turned sharply on his heel, and it took all his willpower to keep from running out of the room to his waiting speeder. He felt Vader’s gaze on him as he walked away, following him across the room as he looked for someone, anyone, to distract himself with.

He made his escape as soon as politely possible, but for the whole time that he remained, he could feel Vader’s eyes lingering on him, somewhere behind the red lenses of his mask, scrutinizing him. As he made his exit, he wondered if someone was going to stop him and drag him off to be interrogated, but no one did. He arrived at his speeder unaccosted, and all was peaceful when he arrived back at his apartment.

But no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake away the chill of Vader’s mechanical voice, and the vague threats that lingered behind it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm planning on making this into a series, with the next few works being scenes from the original trilogy, basically showing how things changed/what stayed the same because of this little switcheroo. the first one will probably be coming at some point in the next few months, so if you liked this au, keep an eye out for it  
> 
> 
> thanks to everyone who read, commented, and gave kudos! i'm glad you enjoyed this little project of mine :)


End file.
